


Battle of the Five Armies

by jamurdock



Series: The Hobbit, There and Back Again [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fili survives!!, mostly true to canon, so yes major characters do die, some deviations, story from Smaug's defeat to the end of the Battle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:59:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 25,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1495777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamurdock/pseuds/jamurdock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my version of The Battle of the Five Armies set to come out Dec 2014, involving the characters created by Peter Jackson.  I didn't add any twists or anything;  just trying my narrative skills out on this story as though I were screenwriting it.  </p><p>A product of many late nights over a period of about 30 days following the release of DOS, handwritten in a moleskin when I should have been correcting papers...</p><p>Siiighhhhhhhh  just saw the actual BOFA.  Some things I loved, other things disappointed me.  One thing they did NOT do that I did in this fic was give Fili and Kili moments together, and Kili and Tauriel as well.  For me it softens the blow of their deaths a little.  I hope it does for you as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Defeat of Smaug

Gandalf is still imprisoned in Dol Guldor, his staff destroyed. He has seen the true identity of the Necromancer and now knows that not only are the nine ring wraiths and their witch King of Angmar free, but Sauron himself leads them and thousands of orcs to attack the people of Middle Earth.

His greatest fears, though, are for Bilbo and the company of dwarves, whom he knows by now have had to enter the Lonely Mountain and face Smaug without his help in spite of his promise that he would be there for them. He feels great guilt and worry especially for Bilbo, for he knows the pattern of the dwarves’ behavior is to push Bilbo forward first and follow behind only when finally inspired (or shamed?) into joining the fight by the Hobbit’s courage.

Bilbo has done well against Trolls, Goblins, Orcs and Giant Spiders but even with this Gandalf despairs of Bilbo being able to survive an encounter with a thousand foot long fire breathing dragon. Trapped in his iron cage without a staff, Gandalf cannot even break free from Dol Guldur, and he knows that even when he does, his first duty will be to rally the wizards and high elves in the task of driving Sauron away from the innocent people of Middle Earth.

He closes his eyes in sorrow. He is convinced he has failed Bilbo, Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, Bomber, Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Fili and Kili. He can only conclude that some, perhaps all of them have died, and he feels their deaths like cold steel weighing on his immortal heart.

He does not have to wait too long in these troubling thoughts, however, since Radaghast has disobeyed his order to leave Dol Goldur and not return if things went wrong. Soon after Sauron and the orcs had left, Radaghast makes his nervous way into the dark ruins and frees Gandalf with the help of his staff and some nimble small animals.

Gandalf is surprised, and his heart is lightened by the small wizard’s courage and faith.

They are both even more surprised when Galadriel herself, mounted on a white horse, in full regalia with all her entourage and an army of elves from Lothlorien emerges from the forests surrounding Dol Goldur. She had promised to come to Gandalf’s aid if he needed her, and she was keeping this promise. She had believed Gandalf’s suspicions about the Necromancer and had been keeping watch ever since, ready to act when necessary.

They confer on their next course of action. Riders are sent to Rivendell and to Isenguard to recruit the help of Elven Lord Elrond, and the head Wizard Saruman. Saruman’s messenger is instructed to inform the wizard of the loss of Gandalf’s staff. A new staff can only be created with the power of the head wizard’s own staff. Once these matters are concluded, Galadriel comes to Gandalf privately.

“And what of the Halfling?”

A shadow falls across Gandalf’s face. “I fear the worst. Durin’s day was yesterday. Thorin will have had access to the Lonely Mountain and will have sent Bilbo inside to hunt for the Arkenstone. If Bilbo awakens Smaug, none of them, stout hearted and determined as they are to reclaim their home, have the skill to defeat the dragon. It is likely Smaug will kill them all even if they try to hide.”

He bows his head for a moment. Galadriel says nothing, only watches him, her eyes wide, considering, unfathomable. Gandalf speaks again,

“I set Thorin on this quest in order to start the wheels turning. The people of Middle Earth must rise to the challenge of dealing with Smaug before greater evil minds seek to harness him. Heroes will rise. They always do.”

Now he looks at Galadriel. “Had I known the greater evil mind would be Sauron himself…!”

Now Galadriel stops him, her hand touches his arm, her voice at its strongest

“You are not the author of this evil, Gandalf. You know this. None of us saw it coming, not even Saruman, not even me. If anything your actions so far show more foresight than the greatest of us. Your faith in the little things –“

[Here they both look over at Radaghast, who is sitting on the ground in a circle of hedgehogs humming a tune in harmony with them.]

“-seems to be well placed.” She smiles for a moment, then looks back at Gandalf, again serious.

“If Smaug has awakened you know we can do nothing to help your friends. Not yet. We have a larger task first.”

At this point there is a deep rumbling sound through the earth, air and trees. In the distance the Lonely Mountain is suddenly outlined in fire. All are starring now, and Galadriel and Gandalf have fear in their eyes as Galadriel says softly, “As you say Gandalf, it is time for a hero to rise.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The people of Lake town have now realized that the dragon of legend is real, and bearing down on them fast. They are screaming, packing their children and belongings into boats and running around at random, accomplishing nothing but making themselves better targets.

Bard is still in his cell, yelling to be let out. But the guards in the guard house are in full panic, and are ignoring him in favor of grabbing all the protective armor and weapons they can carry and running out of the building down towards the water. In the chaos, no one notices young Bain who slips in and follows his father’s voice to his cell. After a moment the boy locates the key and frees Bard. Bard asks anxiously about the black arrow. Bain tells him he has hidden it, and they both run to go and retrieve it.

On a private dock behind the main house, the Master of the Lakemen and his henchman Alfrid are loading his personal boat with all the riches they have taken from the town and intending to leave the town to its fate.

In Bard’s household, his daughters Sigrid and Tilda, who in the past few hours have witnessed, in their own home, an orc attack rebuffed by elves, a dying dwarf saved by elven magic, and are now listening to the thunderous approach of a firebreathing dragon. They are clinging to each other with looks of forced courage on their faces. Tauriel goes to them.

“You have a task, girls, if you feel you can.” They have been in awe of Tauriel since she arrived, and neither of them would dare say no to anything she asked of them. “Go and find as many of the children as you can, and take them down to the water and get them into it. When the dragon comes by, have them duck under it.” Tilda’s eyes are wide and she looks up at her sister. Sigrid is decided, however, and nods at Tauriel, taking her sister by the hand and running to do what she can.

Tauriel turns back to the dwarves, who are putting on their battle gear and conferring about their next course of action. Kili is weak, but has no intention of being left out of this fight, and against his brother’s protestations has hoisted himself up and is pulling on his armor. They know that Bard will be taking his black arrow to the Wind Lance, and with Fili supporting Kili on one side, they all make for the tower at the top of the Master’s house to offer what help they can.

As Bard has made his way to the tower with his son, people have turned to him asking in desperation for guidance and help. They see now that he is their true leader, and when they see the black arrow he carries word spreads that the descendent of Girion may be able to save them from the dragon. It is Bard who has the strength to lead now, because he has always known the truth, that the town had always been living on borrowed time, and that he alone would be able to slay this dragon when it finally returned. He also knows what will happen if he fails.

As more and more people come to him he gives directions as he runs for the tower; to start forming water carrying lines to put out fires, to round up the children and elderly and get them down to the water, to call for the town’s archers and swordsmen to don the ancient fire gear and climb to the parapets to defend the town as well as they can.

Smaug has arrived, and has made his first deadly pass over the North side of the town setting an entire row of houses on fire. His enormous wings push a blast of hot wind past Tauriel and the dwarves as they run towards the tower; the beast flies almost directly over them and they can hear the great booming voice as it fills the air,

“You barrel riders and fish mongers of Laketown! You dare to enter my mountain and steal my treasure? You will pay for your arrogance! Feel the fury of the great Smaug as your ancestors did!” And he sweeps out to the water again, gathering altitude for another pass.

Bard and his son have reached the wind lance, and loaded the black arrow into it. Tauriel, Fili and Kili climb into the tower soon after. Tauriel speaks first, “My lord Bard, the tales tell that your black arrow will kill a dragon, but only if it penetrates a weakness in the dragon’s hide and enters deep into the flesh.”

Bard regards her grimly, “I am aware of this, my lady.”

The dragon makes another pass over the east side of town, spewing fire down onto the rooftops, incinerating dozens of people who were caught outside running.  
“My great grandsire shot four black arrows at this dragon 150 years ago. He succeeded in knocking a single scale away on his underside near the left wing. But I only have one arrow to spend and I must not risk it unless I have a clear shot, until the right moment.”

He turns to Tauriel and the dwarves, “I need a diversion. Smaug might be attracted to our cattle. If you can bring him to pass over the paddocks at the Western side of town that will take him away from our people and force him to fly above me enough times so I might get a clear shot.”

Kili speaks then, “Are the dragon’s eyes protected?”

Bard answers, “all except the black centers. An ordinary arrow shot there will not kill the beast, but may blind him.”

Kili turns to Fili and Tauriel, “Get me a bow and I’ll blind this dragon.” They look doubtfully at Kili, who can barely support his own weight, but he looks so determined that they concede, and in the next moment are headed towards the animal paddocks.

They herd a group of goats and pigs onto a nearby barge and light fires around the bleating animals, then aim their arrows skyward. The afternoon is waning. Amber light bathes the town making each detail of water, wood and mortal sinew breathtakingly clear. Smaug sees the animals and flies towards them. Tauriel is perched on one side of the barge, her bowstring pulled back, aiming for Smaug’s left iris. Kili stands at the other end, his body braced by Fili so he can pour all his strength and concentration into aiming for Smaug’s right iris. It all happens in an instant. The dragon clutches a single screaming goat as both Tauriel’s and Kili’s arrows find their mark.

As predicted, Smaug is blinded but not defeated. The dragon now flies and twists in agony, cursing the town with even darker threats. The dragon is so angry that he grows reckless, now seeking out the ancestor of the one who shot black arrows at him during the last battle. Smaug follows the scent of Bard the bowman, and once locating him, lands on top of the houses in front of the tower where Bard stands ready, crushing the houses to splinters. He taunts the lakeman, his insides glowing red with fire,

“you carry the same lying, thieving blood as your ancestor, Lakeman! Prepare to meet the same fate as he did!”

Bard brings the wind lance around, now with the dragon standing still before him is his best chance and only chance but he must be quick. He sees the missing scale, aims, holding his breath, and releases the black arrow just as Smaug inhales to release a torrent of flame. The arrow finds its mark and sinks deep into the dragon’s flesh. Smaug screams so loudly and with so much force that it shakes the foundations of the town, sending larges waves of water careening outward towards the shore, where the Master and Alfrid have been watching from their boat. The dragon flies upward in its final agony, away from the town, and straight towards the Master’s boat, finally crashing down on top of it taking it with him to the bottom of the deepest part of the Lake.


	2. Following the Dragon's Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo, Bofur and Bard offer their perspectives on the aftermath of Smaug's defeat.

In Erebor, Thorin and his diminished company have watched and listened anxiously from a distance as Smaug attacked Laketown. As the sounds of the attack ceased, they had gone from worry, to puzzlement, and finally to complacency. Surrounded by their long lost treasure, with no dragon now barring them from it, they grow less concerned with Laketown and more interested in rebuilding their home and reclaiming their possessions.

Bilbo is dismayed by this, by Thorin’s evident lack of concern for Oin, Bofur, Kili and Fili’s fate. And he is not the only one. Balin, too grows worried about Thorin and the other dwarves’ behavior. As they explore deeper into the chambers of Erebor, uncovering more chambers and more treasures, the dwarves become more mercenary, grim and short tempered. They no longer eat together, but in small suspicious groups, and there are no more songs or stories by the fire, but cold echoes of silence.

Thorin is particularly concerned about the missing Arkenstone, and treats everyone, especially Bilbo, with suspicion. Bilbo frets over this, for he does indeed possess the Arkenstone. He had not given it to Thorin, but kept it in a small secret room he had found that had a cave-in before it, with a hole into it only a hobbit could use.

In the many days that follow the death of Smaug, the citizens of Laketown gather their dead, mourn, care for their injured and attempt to gather their resources. They immediately elect Bard as their new Master. Their anger at the Thorin’s company is great, for they see them to be the cause of waking the dragon and the attack on their town, but they are somewhat assuaged by the courage of the dwarves during the attack, and the part they played in Smaug’s destruction. Bard calls for his people to not lay blame for now until they know more, and to recognize the heroic acts of those dwarves among them.

For the time being Bard decides to rebuild the town where it is rather than move his people back to land, or to the ruins of Dale on the borders of Erebor. Bard, still the realist, knows that Smaug was not the only threat to his people. Neither the Woodland Elves nor the Dwarves were to be trusted. And the Orcs who’d become bold enough to attack his own home and children chills him. They are still out there, and would not disappear simply because the dragon is slain. If anything Laketown needs to be even more fortified and guarded than before.

Bard looks upon Tauriel, Fili, Kili, Bofur and Oin with reserved curiosity. They remain in Laketown, and are helping his people to rebuild, and he is glad of this. But he is wary. He has always known dwarves to be mainly driven by self-interest, and Thorin’s company lived up to this with full accuracy in his experience with them. But he is intrigued by the loyalty of these few shown to the young wounded one, and was very surprised at Fili’s selfless encouragement to him to take his family away from them when the danger was at its greatest. That did not fit what he knew of dwarves.

And Tauriel’s behavior is so far removed from what he knows of Elves that he is mystified. No Woodland elf had ever come to the aid of the Laketown people in his living memory, and as far as he knew, no elf of any realm had ever gone out of their way to save the life of a dwarf.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bofur could not quite explain even to himself why he and his brethren had not returned to the others in Erebor once Smaug had been destroyed.

They were needed and wanted here, that was certain. Everywhere they went people fell to their knees and thanked them, Kili in particular, for saving them from a fiery death.

The town barely had a single house still standing. The work of clearing away the debris, and providing make-shif shelters for the injured and homeless was an enormous task. Fili, Bofur and Kili were adding their strength to the Lakemens’. They could each lift twice the weight of any man as the work continued, even Kili though wounded. The fresh air seemed to do Kili good, though Bofur saw him kneeling down often to rest, grasping his healing leg. The Elf lass had told them that the wound, being from a Morugol tipped blade, would never fully heal and might always twinge a bit. Bofur wondered with a smile to himself if perhaps that was her excuse for checking in with Kili so often to monitor its healing. In any case Kili certainly did not seem to mind.

Oin and Tauriel found themselves needed most in the infirmary, treating scores of injured men, women and children. Oin did what he could for them, but treating humans was very different than treating dwarves. A dwarf’s ability to withstand pain was far greater than a human’s and no injury caused more pain than a dragon fire burn.

Medecine for pain was not prominent in the dwarf medicinal arsenal. So Oin is fascinated by the skills Tauriel employs as she works on the injured, particularly those in pain. Oin leaves these patients to her and concentrates on those with broken or crushed limbs, of which there are many. But any chance he could, he steals over to watch as Tauriel administered the Elven arts to those injured by fire. She used the same herbs Oin would have – willow bark mostly – but added something more; incantations that brought forth the deep healing magic of her people. The wounds she touched seemed to glow faintly as she spoke softly over them, the sufferer invariably unclenched, color would return to their faces and they would enter a deep sleep.

So they were needed here. But surely they should rejoin their brothers in Erebor soon, Bofur thought. Perhaps what really kept them here was the arbitrary way in which they were left. The sting of Thorin leaving them behind was still great in all of them, though they did not speak of it. Given the choice between the glory of Erebor, and his own kin, Thorin had chosen Erebor without hesitation. Bofur would never forget the look on Kili’s face when Thorin had ordered him to stay behind.

In all their years on the road, there had never been a time or a situation so difficult that the dwarves would ever leave a man behind, no matter how badly injured he was. It was an unwritten rule as they had learned to live a nomadic life. Bofur had never known any other way, having been born after the fall of Erebor.

But perhaps that was just it, thought Bofur. Thorin and the older dwarves had known Erebor and there were deeper things he did not understand.

But it still stung.

And if Thorin did not need them, then they would stay where they were needed and wanted.

For now.


	3. Kili's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves are still in Laketown as Kili's wound heals, and the people are in need of their strength and help. Kili and Tauriel begin to notice each other more although Tauriel remains guarded. One night the townspeople are treated to story in the tradition of true dwarf lore.

Tauriel loved to watch Kili with the children.

Every so often she caught a glimpse of him on the dock outside the infirmary, where he often set himself up to work on a new bow and set of arrows. Those children who had not been injured (and most had not, thanks to the caring and skills of Sigrid and Tilda) gathered around Kili as he worked. Though not injured in body, many were injured in spirit, had lost parents, homes or seen people roasted alive by dragon fire. They seemed drawn to the young dwarf, one of the heroes of the recent battle, and they had been raised with tales of the dwarves of Erebor who had lived and traded with their grand sires before.

They came timidly at first, wide eyed. Dwarves had been described to them as stout, fierce creatures who hid their faces behind thick whiskers, and who were stingy and unfriendly. But Kili did not seem to fit with these tales told them by their mas and das. He smiled at them as he worked, asked them their names, and invited them to help him as he told them stories.

The dwarves had been to the forest on the mainland to collect more medicinal herbs and to hunt, and Kili had cut down several young saplings for the bow and arrows he was making. He had them laid out now in the sun, and had stripped off their bark and was testing them for strength. Several of the boys had asked him to help them make bows of their own, so he had cut likely pieces for all of them, and one for himself, and had them each sitting with their fathers’ carving knives whittling new bows alongside him as their little sisters watched or played simple games nearby.

The children’s parents had wandered over to check on their offsprings’ whereabouts, observed the activity surrounding Kili, and nodded and returned to their tasks. Tauriel went down when she could to help, and sat and talked with girls, grooming and braiding their hair in the sun. A few days went by, and in the down time there on the dock when they were not working to repair homes, they had crafted seven bows, strung them with animal gut, and had begun work on arrows.

Bofur and Fili had been stopping by as well. They shared stories with the children usually told to dwarf children, of dwarf princes fighting trolls to win treasure, of dwarf blacksmiths who discovered the secrets of making beautiful gemstones into fine jewelry that was then wasted on selfish and spoiled human princesses.

Tauriel and Kili watch each other through all this, fascinated and drawn to each other but cautious. Every time Tauriel looks at Kili and catches him at a moment when he is looking back, he smiles so warmly and broadly at her that she turns away, blushing.

It is following one of these moments that Kili begins telling another story.

“There was once a young dwarf named Terl who lived beyond the Misty Mountains near the North Sea, in the Realm of Arden. This was many centuries ago, before there ever were dwarves in Erebor. “

The children gathered around him, having dropped their games and arrows, listening well. Bofur, Fili and Oin were also there as the light of day was waning and no more repair work could really be done. Tauriel sat still and straight, her long red hair shining in the setting sun.

“Terl is a fine, strong dwarf, and his family is well born. It is his time to find a wife, and in this age the father chooses the maid his son will marry.”

The children gasp here, particularly the young boys, “What if he doesn’t like her?” says Bane. Kili gestures to him with raised brows,

“Ah, and that is indeed the problem because the girl chosen for Terl was a fright even by dwarf standards.” Kili stood up now, pantomiming as he described the dimensions of the unfortunate dwarf girl, as the children laughed and squealed with delight. Adults were gathering now as well to hear the story telling of the young dwarf who had blinded the great dragon.

“…and at the tender age of 20 the maid had more of a beard than Terl himself!”

Everyone was laughing now. Tauriel sat between Sigrid and Tilda and laughs gaily and freely with the others, her musical voice lilting and magical to Kili’s ears. He nearly loses track of his tale and must steal his eyes away from her to go on.

“So as the day of Terl’s betrothal ceremony nears, he packs his sword, axe and belongings into a carrisac and leaves the Realm of Arden, for he would rather be a free man and see the wide world than be confined to the unhappiest of marriages.” His audience quiets at this, and all listen with eyes wide now.

“He walks for some days until he is sure he is far enough away that his kin will not discover him. He has made no plan yet of where to go, so he climbs to the top of a high hill to view the land and determine his path. It is then that he sees her.”

Kili gestures with one hand into the distance over the lake. The peoples’ heads all turn where he points fully expecting to see in their minds, there, whatever he may describe.

“A woman is riding a chestnut mare across the fields below him. She is most fair, her dark hair billows out behind her like a living thing. A bow and quiver of arrows is strapped to her back and she is galloping fast.”

At this point Kili addresses the youngest children sitting closest to him. “Do you know,” he says conspiratorially, “that if you stare at the back of someone long enough, someone who is not aware that you are there, they will eventually turn around and look at you?” The children gaze at him open-mouthed, shaking their heads in response, but many older members of the audience nod and murmur affirmatives.

“well that is what happens to Terl, as he stares at the beautiful woman riding her horse, she feels his eyes upon her and suddenly reins in the animal and looks up at Terl, who now can see that she is Elven.”

The audience gasps again, and slowly many heads turn one by one to look at Tauriel, who begins to look uncomfortable. Kili forges onward,

“Her name is Halandriel, and she, too has left her kin for reasons of her own, to seek freedom in the world of Middle Earth. The two of them view each other from a distance for a long moment, and then Halandriel turns back to her path and gallops away. Terl does not expect to see her again, as she is astride and he is on foot. But their paths do cross again three nights later. Terl has camped in a forest not far from a human town and is hunting wild boar.”

At this point Kili’s eyes turn pointedly towards where Bofur, Fili and Oin are sitting, and his voice carries a bit of a command in it as he continues, “…He is a skilled hunter!”

The three dwarves look at each other, and Bofur seems to resign himself, nods, and steps down into the firelight and comically assumes the role of Terl. He puffs out his chest and brandishes his short sword, pretending to staulk an invisible wild pig. The crowd is delighted and focuses on Bofur and away from Tauriel, as Kili had intended.

“—but he has never tried to hunt them alone. He succeeds in slaying one beast—“

(Bofur pantomines this quite dramatically)

“—but fails to notice the boar’s herd mate behind him, who attacks--!”

(Bofur yells and falls, clutching his side)

“he is badly wounded—“

(loud comical groan from Bofur)

“—and the beast is coming around for a final charge!” Bofur and Kili both beat their feet upon the dock boards, encouraging the crowd to join them which they do, as anticipation builds,

“Then suddenly an arrow flies out of nowhere and mortally wounds the charging beast! Terl is saved!”

The children cheer as Bofur pantomines his relief. Kili turns to the crowd, his eyes shifting imperceptively to his brother Fili, who rolls his eyes and begins to move…

“But whose arrow was it?!”

Sigrid and Tendra on either side of Tauriel shout loudly “Halandriel! It was her arrow!!”

On cue, Fili leaps into the fire light brandishing Kili’s new bow. The audience applauds, and then dissolves into peals of laughter as Fili fully takes on the role of Halandriel. He walks provocatively in a circle around Bofur, passing his free hand down his own tangled blond braids and swaying his hips widely enough to swat flies.

Kili gives him plenty of time, again distracted by Tauriel’s laughter which rings out like bells above the human mirth.

He barely needs to narrate the next part of the story, where Halandriel cares for Terl’s injuries and the two fall in love with each other. Bofur and Fili ham this up so skillfully that the mood remains light as Kili continues,

“Now you understand how unlikely this is? For historically elves and dwarves have not been great friends.” The older members of the audience rumble in agreement here again,

“Elves are taught from the time they are children that dwarves are repulsive, fat, greedy, ill-tempered ill-mannered creatures that are not to be trusted.”

Bofur punctuates each of Kili’s descriptions as they are spoken, snarling, grabbing objects from the children and belching to the delight of the crowd.

“And dwarves are taught that elves are nothing but overly tall, prissy snobs with small noses who think far too much of themselves and are not to be trusted either!”

Fili illustrates Kili’s words by hopping onto the dock rail and pinching his nose while holding it high in the air.

“And yet Terl and Halandriel do fall in love, and they know very well that neither of their own kinfolk will accept this match.”

Bofur and Fili are clutching comicaly at their own hearts at this point, but now look nervously at Kili, wondering what will come next. Tauriel in her corner, has felt a shadow come across her, and watches breathlessly.

Kili doesn’t skip a beat.

“They decide to take an ocean voyage. During those days there were lands beyond the waters of Middle Earth where one could start a new life among foreign peoples.”

Kili directs Fili and Bofur to enter one the narrow long boats docked near their fire-circle. They both get in, and lightening fast, before they quite get the chance to sit down, Kili finishes his story.

“Anda great stormsurroundsthemand theyarepitchedintotheseaandlostforever!!” Kili, who still stands firmly on the dock, violently rocks the boat with his hands and sends Fili and Bofur splashing into the Lake to the great applause of all.

But as Kili turns and is taking his bows, Fili and Bofur, sputtering mad, proclaim that an additional ending is needed for the storyteller.

Kili flees into the crowd seeking amnesty, but although they allow him free paths as he runs from his pursuers they do not allow him to leave the dock. Fili and Bofur finally pounce on him and lift him up, with the crowd’s help, and send flying up high to land in the lake in his turn.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tauriel fades into the background. She is all turmoil now, having enjoyed the story and the manner of its telling, but also seeing the truth of it and the trouble that might come of it. And she feels the sadness of knowing even less where her place is in the world.

Kili finds her sometime later, sitting on a dock, distant from the sounds of people. Moonlight shines on the water of the lake. His kin are playing music as people dance around the fire, the sound of flute and drumming feet are in the distance.

“you sit alone my lady?” He hands her a cup of warm cider and settles himself next to her.

“not any longer, for you are here.” She says, smiling, taking a sip of the cider. “so...’overly tall prissy snobs with small noses…’?”

Kili smiles and shrugs “I thought I’d saved the worst insults for my own kind.”

She concedes the point, “You are a gifted storyteller, you held that audience’s complete attention. I wasn’t familiar with the tale. It’s not part of dwarf lore, is it?”

“Nah.” Kili says carelessly, looking out at the water. “I made it up, mostly.”

She looks at him, surprised, “you made up that whole story?”

“well…” he takes another swig of cider, “there were elements of truth in it. Terl was the name of my pony when I was a young.”

“your pony?”

“Yes. My father was intending to breed him with our brood mare. She was a good mare, always bore us healthy foals, but she was a bit old and scruffy, and Terl wanted none of it.”

Tauriel’s eyes are twinkling as she listens to him.

“So he jumped out of his paddock one night and took off. I went out after him. I knew I’d better have him back in before my father found out or he’d have my hide. I headed for a hill where I could see the furthest, and there was the chestnut mare, only riderless and wild, galloping with Terl close by her side.”

Tauriel nods, impressed with his weaving of memory with fabrication.

“I didn’t’ have the heart to go down and harness him. I knew I’d be in trouble but I watched them for a long time. They looked so happy and free, and well…” Kili cleared his throat, “they were, you know…busy.”

Tauriel begins to laugh “How did Terl manage?”

Kili grins “He did the best he could.”

They both laugh freely now, Kili finally looking at Tauriel, unable to hide his admiration.

“My lady you have the most beautiful laugh.”

Tauriel looks down for a moment, then appears to make a decision. She looks directly at him, “I feel happier with you, Kili, than I have felt in a long time.”

The look in Kili’s eyes now is intense, helplessly smitten, as he can barely allow himself to believe what he hears. His hand rises of its own accord to touch the side of her head and she leans into it, closing her eyes.

“Tauriel,” he says “my heart has been yours since the first moment I saw you. Is it possible you feel the same?”

She smiles back at him “It’s possible. Just not very practical.”

Their faces are close now, but while his shines with hope Tauriel’s brow is furrowed. She knows there is no precedent for what they are feeling and that the barriers against them will be great.

“Kili…”

“shhhh” he touches her lips gently. “Tauriel, whatever trouble we are getting ourselves into, I do not think we will be in any less trouble if we choose not to enjoy it.”


	4. The Heart of Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas tracks Bolg and the orcs through Mirkwood, his thoughts disturbed by Tauriel's choice to stay behind in Laketown. He meets both light and dark as he travels on his white horse (which came from WHERE by the way....???)

Legolas has been tracking the orc party led by Bolg ever since they left Laketown, and their direction has taken him through Mirkwood and towards Dol Goldur.

He is keenly aware that Tauriel has not come after him, and turns the reasons and implications over in his mind. He knows full well that his father King Thranduil would not permit a match between his son and a Silvan Elf like Tauriel. This is why he had not acted on his own feelings as he began to feel his heart touched by the small but stout-hearted Tauriel, with her direct gaze and outspokenness. He had settled himself to wait, as all elves know there is endless time to wait, and consider the situation before acting further.

Legolas has begun to feel critical of his father’s behavior and leadership, but he is not yet ready to openly oppose Thranduil.

But Tauriel’s apparent fascination for the young dwarf archer is unexpected.

Legolas is not worried about losing Tauriel to the dwarf. No dwarf could ever hold the heart of an elf maid; the idea was impossible. But he worried for her safety. Like all elves, Legolas possessed some clairevoyance that told him now that a darkness was coming. He considered the company she was choosing to keep, and doubted that any of the dwarves or humans around her would offer enough protection. In fact, quite the opposite. She seemed so determined to serve and protect these others, not of their kind, that in her choice to put herself between danger and these other people, Tauriel was making herself vulnerable.

His attention is suddenly drawn to a thundering to the East. Quickly he climbs up into the branches of a tree, and waits. A massive column of orcs marches past beneath him beneath him, at least 30,000 strong. The forest of Mirkwood seems to welcome them, its darkness stretches and distorts around them as their cruel metal boots stomp through the gloom. But even more terrifying is the shadow that Legolas can both see and feel slinking and flitting around the flanks of this terrible army.

He has never sensed anything like this. It is formless, but contains so much anger, hatred and malice that it feels tangible to him. It behaves as though it feeds on the brutality and fear of the orcs it accompanies, and the forest grows even darker as it passes, its denizens cowering, even screaming out as the black shadow makes its way past where Legolas grips the branches of a gnarled tree.

“Darkness falls” he whispers, and observes that this horrible dark army is headed directly for the Lonely Mountain.

His first instinct is to return to his own Woodland Realm to warn his father, but something further to the East draws his attention. Something bright and suffused with the grace of his own kind. He begins to move towards it, feeling the ice around his heart begin to melt as he comes upon the elf riders of Lothlorien, led by Celeborn, whom Legolas had only known about from stories. He begins to feel some hope.


	5. Wizard Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf knows he must convince Saruman to lead the wizards against Sauron, and he also needs the help of his overlord to restore his lost staff. Power and strife combine in the deep mists of the forest.

Radaghast flies through the forest on his sled led by the Ruskavel rabbits. He is searching for something, looking here and there as he passes the trees.

Finally he stops and dismounts, moving quickly, his face anxious. Animals and birds approach him, but he gently pushes them aside, “not now…” he says.

He touches, picks up, and discards many branches and trunks of small saplings as he walks through the woods. Several times he raises his arm, seems to be gauging his own height with that of an invisible companion, then shakes his head and moves on. Finally his hand alights upon a fine, long branch of an ash tree that lies in his path. He feels the smoothness of it, reckons its length, touches the small branches spreading from its tip.

“ahh, yes.” He says, smiling and remounts his sled, racing back to the West.

He arrives in different place in the forest, a very old, sacred place more ancient than the oldest of the Elven Kings. Statues in stone of the countenances of the valar stand in a circle around an ancient mosaic, somewhat crumbling, but still showing a circular map of Middle Earth, the land in greens and browns, the water in blue, and surrounded by a deeper blue layer, its outermost edge pin pricked with stars.

Gandalf stands in the center of the circle, his hands empty, his head bare. Saruman, Galadriel, Elrond and two mysterious wizards dressed in blue robes, stand around him. The tension is very high, as Radaghast enters the circle, bows nervously to Sarumon, and presents his head wizard with the staff he has found. Sarumon glowers at Radaghast and roughly takes the staff from him. Then he looks at Gandalf, equally displeased, looks the branch over for a moment, and tosses it to Gandalf.

“I suppose such a wild looking branch found at random on the forest floor will do for such an unruly and disobedient wizard such as yourself, Gandalf.”

Gandalf’s face is strained with his disappointment in Sarumon, and with the self-control he is exerting to contain his temper. He closes his eyes and nods in deference, for the moment. The other members of the circle, the White Council Guardians of Middle earth, look equally grim. Galadriel, Elrond, and Radaghast are clearly siding with Gandalf in their hearts. It is a mark of Sarumon’s blindness and distortion of mind that he interprets their dark expressions to be against Gandalf’s behavior and not his own.

The other two wizards, the ones in blue, represent the waters of Middle Earth. Their cloaks ripple and shine lide the surfaces of rivers and lakes. Their eyes and skin are so pale as to be almost transparent. Their expressions are curious and mildly concerned, but they do not speak or appear to have much opinion about what transpires before them.

“How could you allow your staff to be lost?!” Sarumon is yelling now, his black eyes fierce, “A wizard’s staff is not just a tool, it is our symbol of strength to Middle Earth. How will we maintain the respect and deference owed to us by the people of this world if they see us running about, misusing our powers, wasting time meddling in business that is not our own, and misplacing our staffs!!”

Gandalf raises his voice too. “As I explained, my staff was not misplaced. It was destroyed by the Necromancer, who turned out to be none other than Sauron himself!”

Sarumon shakes his head, flustered, “and what were you doing investigating Dol Goldur on your own? Why did you not come and gather all of us before blundering into what was clearly a trap? Do you think yourself invincible?!”

Now Galadriel speaks. “Sarumon, you yourself proclaimed the necromancer to be nothing more than a human conjuror at our last meeting. Gandalf had no reason to suspect a trap, and was surely only there to confirm your suspicion.”

Sarumon backs down. He and Gandalf regard each other, Sarumon’s expression fierce but clearly hiding deep fear. Gandalf’s expression is intense, too, but there is sadness around his eyes that reveals that ultimately, kindness is at his center.

“well,” says Sarumon “Let’s get this over with then.”

He gestures to the others, who gather in around Gandalf. The four wizrds touch their staffs to Gandalf’s branch as he holds it up in the center. The two elves place their right hands on his shoulders. They all close their eyes as Sarumon begins to speak an ancient incantation. Light and power begins to swirl around them. The ordinary branch in Gandalf’s hands begins to glow, its fibers tightening from the bottom and climbing to the top, where the small outward pointing branches begin to move and weave themselves into a candle shaped pattern. A blue fire seems to burn in the center of it, which is reflected in Gandalf’s eyes and concentrates everything that he is; wisdom, curiosity, kindness, love, courage, strength.

Then it is over, and the staff is complete, imbued with a wizard’s power and the sacred fire of the Valar.

The group seems to have calmed down. Gandalf speaks, looking at Sarumon respectfully, but warily.

“I was indeed wrong to face the darkness alone, Sarumon.” He bows to his head wizard, who looks only slightly mollified.

Gandalf continues, “There can be no more doubt that Sauron has returned, and has gained enough power to once again threaten the people of Middle earth.”

The others all nod in agreement with him, and look to Sarumon expectantly.

“so…” begins Sarumon, Gandalf and Galadriel look at him with concern, trepidation—they know they cannot defeat Sauron without him.

“So we must unite our power, then and do the work we are entrusted to do as guardians.”

Gandalf breathes with relief. Galadriel smiles beautifully, and Elrond and Radaghast look much relieved. The two blue wizards look at each other quizzically, not understanding anything of these terrestrials.


	6. Parting of Kili and Tauriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves take their leave of Laketown to join their brothers in Erebor. Tauriel takes her path back to her people in the Woodland Realm. But it's not over yet.

In laketown, the dwarves have made the decision to continue on to the Lonely Mountain to join Thorin and their kinsmen.

Bofur has to admit he has enjoyed the time in Laketown. The people have been appreciative, and shared their food, songs and evenings with them. He hears the children telling their dwarf stories to each other as he walks through the docks and streets. Rebuilding homes for the human community of Laketown has been heavy work, but satisfying for the dwarves. However it also makes them long for a home of their own, and they know it is time to leave.

Bofur has grown worried about the obvious attraction growing between Kili and Tauriel. Fili and Oin do not seem to notice, or perhaps choose not to, but Bofur can see the looks passing between them, the way they disappear to the mainland together with their bows and arrows, bringing back plenty of game for the town, but often not returning t’il the next morning.

Bofur knows they must return to their own kin before they forget who they are, and where their duty lies.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Kili, Fili, Oin and Bofur share a room near the bridge to the mainland. It is night, and Kili is lying awake. He sees Tauriel in her travel gear run softly by their window, on her way towards the bridge. Quietly, Kili leaves their room to follow her.

He finds her waiting for him in a sheltered dock near the bridge. He slows as he sees her. She is standing still, obviously expecting him.

“so you’re leaving then?”

She smiles sadly, nods.

Kili speaks again, “time for the dwarf to return to his people and the elf to return to hers, is that it?”

She nods again.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying a proper goodbye?”

“No need, for I knew you would follow me.”

He takes her hands in his, and they rest their foreheads against each other. “I would follow you anywhere, my lady.”

They stay that way for a moment, then Kili speaks again. “I wish you were not going alone.”

She smiles, “you doubt my abilities?”

“The wilds are dangerous to anyone alone, didn’t you listen to my stories?” He smiles but he is only half jesting.

“I’m not going far. Back to the Woodland Realm. I must try to make Thranduil listen.” She looks to the West, her elven senses causing her to shiver at the darkness she can feel there. “There is great trouble coming. My people will be needed.”

“Tauriel,” he looks at her, more worried about the danger she faces from her own kind than from any darker enemy, “I never had the privilege of seeing you with your own people, and you’ve hardly spoken of them to me. Do you have anyone there who is truly kin to you, who’ll appreciate you as you deserve?”

She looks at him with so much tenderness and sadness then that Kili actually feels a pain in his heart.

“It is ironic, isn’t it? My people have had their Realm in the woods, their home, for over 3 thousand years and yet we are out of touch and cold towards each other. You and your kin were driven out of Erebor, and wander homeless, and yet you are so loyal and close, so warm towards each other that I am almost envious.”

Kili lets out a breath as though he’d been holding it, and grips her tightly; speaking low, “Then do not go there. Stay with us. My kinsmen saw you save my life, they will accept you!”

She shakes her head “Only so long as I do not meddle too closely with their kin.” She tips her head at him.

“So there is nothing I can say to keep you here.” It is a statement rather than a question. He places something into her hand. She looks down, seeing that it is the talisman with the Dwarvish runes on it—the one given to Kili by his mother.

“I cannot take this!”

“I wish it. Take it Tauriel.”

His expression is so determined that she assents and takes his gift. Then she slips a small knife from her belt and clips a lock of her hair from behind her ear. She winds it around her elegant fingers, and then places the shimmering coiled strand into Fili’s hand.

“If you braid it, it makes a very strong bowstring.”

He gathers her into his arms, then, his hand closing around her gift, and their kiss is long and deep, before Tauriel pulls away from him and makes her way towards the Bridge the Mainland.

Bofur and Fili have been watching from their small window all this time. Fili stares at his brother, looks at Bofur, then back as Tauriel runs across the bridge. Kili is watching her, stricken faced.

“Poor Kili…” says Fili.

“Aye.” Says Bofur, “That’s a woman for you. She mends his leg, then breaks his heart.”


	7. The Cleansing of Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The White Counsel, with Saruman in the lead, ride through Mirkwood using all of their power to drive out the Evil of Sauron. It becomes evident that perhaps the small things truly are the most powerful...

The guardians of Middle Earth are riding through Mirkwood. Sarumon is in the lead, his staff held forward. Gandalf, Radaghast, the two blue wizards and Elrond and Galadriel are close behind.

They are all murmuring ancient incantations that seem to vibrate through the air. A large orb of light seems to surround all of them and as they pass through the woods, the evil spell that had descended on the living things there unravels and dissolves away. Trees that were coated in black stench and wrapped in dark vines are released; the vines trembling and falling away, the stinking residue bubbling and resolving into dust at the touch of the wizard’s power.

The dark foliage, as it disintegrates, opens up the forest canopy and more and more light begins to shine down through, touching the ground, brightening the moss and lichens, causing new green shoots to emerge, small flowers to bloom that had not dared open for years. Birds who for too long had hidden in the high branches near the light begin to circle down and land on the now healthy lower branches and shrubs, adding their tiny chirps and songs to a forest that has so long been silent. Small animals emerge from deep burrows, thin and starved, slowly begin to reclaim the forest floor and forage again for the food that is re appearing as well—seeds, berries, nuts fallen to the earth from trees finally released from the strangle hold of Sauron.

Radaghast is fully in his element, but he is irritating Saruman with his constant tendency to stop and give help to recovering animals. As he is kneeling over a group of wobbly looking rabbits, administering the contents of a small vial into their mouths, Saruman circles back and thunders angrily at him to keep up or be gone.

Gandalf, more understanding, speaks to Radaghast as he shakily remounts his sled, a baby rabbit secretly cradled in his robes.

“There will be time, later, my friend, to tend to the animals. We must deal with the evil at its source first.”

Gandalf well understands this choice. He still worries about Bilbo and Thorin’s company, and must force his thoughts forward and away from the fate of his friends as they continue their cleansing ride through Mirkwood.

As they enter the regions of the spiders, the great webs in the trees respond to the light that travels with them as though it were fire. They burn blue and vanish from the trees, enormous blankets of them vanishing, releasing hundreds of trees from their grip. The spiders are fleeing form the oncoming white counsel. From above, the forest seems to glow with renewed health, while the forest before their path writhes with sickness, and the rampaging spiders create large disturbances as they seek to escape the good wizards and immortals of Middle Earth.

But Mirkwood is vast, and they are only just beginning.


	8. Legolas' learning curve continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeborn and the Elves of Lothlorien make their way to the Woodland Realm intending to invite Thranduil to join forces with them against Sauron. Legolas rides with them, gaining wisdom by the moment.

In another part of the woods, Legolas has joined Celeborn and the elves of Lothlorien, who are on their way to the woodland realm to meet with King Thranduil. Celeborn hopes to enlist the help of Legolas’ kin in order to deal with the great orc army.

Legolas is appreciating the company of these Lothlorien elves, and their very ancient and wise King. But he fears that his father will not listen, even to one as powerful and prominent as Celeborn.

“My father has worked hard to protect our realm, but in so doing he has rarely ventured beyond it.”

Celeborn nods, “The Woodland Realm is not the only realm that tends to keep to itself. We of Lothlorien hardly ever leave our home.”

“My father has shut the great doors of our realm and forbidden anyone leave to enter…or leave.”

Celeborn nods again. “Thranduil seeks to protect his people from darkness, yes.” He looks at Legolas, who is looking forward with a troubled expression. “And yet by doing so he may be inviting that very darkness into himself.”

Legolas looks at Celeborn wide-eyed.

Celeborn’s face remains placid, his eyes always seeming to be looking at something distant.

“It is a difficult thing to know when you must leave your home in order to protect it. Why did you leave it, Legolas?”

Legolas is taken off gurad. “I? Well…” he stammers, “I sought to follow and protect my kinswoman, Tauriel, who left to follow some… prisoners of ours who had escaped.”

“Ah, Thorin and his company of dwarves?”

“yes”

Celeborn is thoughtful. “And why was she following them?”

Legolas flusters at this as well. He can still see Tauriel standing by the river, speaking her mind to him in her pure, clear voice.

“She believes we are part of this world, and that we have a responsibility to protect all of Middle Earth, even those peoples not of our kind.”

“mmm. And do you agree with her, Legolas?”

The younger elf is quiet for a long time. He finally shakes his head. “I am not sure what I agree with anymore, my Lord.”

Celeborn smiles broadly at this.

“That is very good!”

Legolas stares at Celeborn, complexed.

Celeborn continues, “I have lived long enough to have learned that the world, by its very nature, is uncertain. All changes, grows, nothing remains the same. It is a good strategy, I have found, to allow oneself to change and grow also.”


	9. Dwarf Reunion at the Lonely Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili, Fili, Bofur and Oin finally arrive at Erebor. All are happy to see each other at first, but the golden treasure has begun to work its poison on Thorin, and all does not bode well. Kili is brash and passionate, and is not likely to carry the secret of his love for a she-elf successfully for very long.

Bilbo is sitting on the rock ledge where he and the dwarves had first opened the secret door only a few weeks before. He cannot bear to be inside the chambers of Erebor anymore. The halls are so enormous and cold. The vast treasure depresses him in its futility and uselessness, and its association with the horrible dragon. And Thorin and the dwarves are as cold and distant to him as their empty halls.

Balin emerges from the doorway. He brings two bowls of stew, and sits down with Bilbo, offering him one.

“Thought I’d find you here, “ he says kindly, “Bombur just cooked this up. Dwalin’s been hunting.”

“Thanks!” Bilbo is sincere. He’d been used to eating much more often in his home in the Shire, but has not really missed the comfort of his many daily meals until now, he realizes. Now for the first time during this journey, Bilbo feels truly homesick. They eat together, watching the sun go down.

“What are you thinking, laddie?”

Bilbo is so lost in his thoughts that he startles at Balin’s inquiry. “I was just thinking of the night you all arrived at my home in Hobbiton.”

Balin smiles at the memory as Bilbo continues, “ I’d made such a nice cozy meal for myself, and I remember being very vexed at Dwalin for barging in and scarfing it down as though he had every right to it.”

Balin laughs, “Yes we were a bit hard on you that night weren’t we? But you were such a temptingly innocent target so it was very hard to resist.”

“innocent…” says Bilbo, “yes I suppose so.”

They are quiet again a moment.

“I look back on it very fondly, now. You were all so merry, so happy to see each other, so excited about your quest. Even as dangerous as it sounded, it attracted me.  I could have stayed at home, with my books and armchair, my hobbit relatives, safe in my hole.”

He looks at Balin, then, “But I wouldn’t have missed any of this for the world, Balin. Not because of the treasure or even the adventure of it…” he breathes, “but because you all welcomed me as a brother. I’ve never had companions like you, been part of something that was larger than myself, had anyone believe in me so much. You all even made me believe I could outwit a dragon.”

A large tear emerges from Balin’s eye and makes its way down his weathered face.

“Balin, what’s happening to them? The dwarves I met in Hobbiton are gone.”

“NO We’re NOT!” A booming voice comes from the stone stairway leading to their ledge. Bofur’s head emerges from the edge, followed by Kili, Fili and Oin.

It is a loud, merry reunion with much hard slapping of backs and konking of foreheads (Bilbo politely avoids this custom) and the party then heads indoors, the newly arriving dwarves looking with wonder at the walls and spaces of their long lost home.

“What did Bilbo mean?” whispers Bofur to Balin, “the dwarves of Hobbiton are gone?” Balin looks warily at him, “Nevermind, laddie. Perhaps all will be well now yer all here.” Bofur’s brow furrows, and he follows behind, his eyes and ears wide open now.

Thorin, Dwalin and Gloin sit in a quiet somber circle in the throne room, picking listlessly at the bowls of food in their laps. They brighten and leap up at the sight of their newly arrived kinsmen. Thorin embraces Fili and Kili with relief, not noticing that neither of his nephew’s eyes fully meets his own. Oin and Gloin greet each other with full dwarfish enthusiasm, however, and Bilbo feels hope rekindle in his heart.

They go to another anteroom where the other dwarves are sitting around Bombur’s cooking fire. Here too, greetings bring warmth to the cold of Erebor. All 14 reunited sit down and begin to tell each other the adventures they have had away from each other’s company.

Those that remained in Laketown are enthralled to hear the tale of the keyhole that appeared not in the last rays of the sun but in the first rays of moonlight of Durin’s day, the last moon of autumn. And of the clever hobbit who would not give up trying to find the door. More amazement is expressed at Bilbo’s act of facing the Dragon alone and living to tell about it, and then of the whole company’s attempt to destroy Smaug in a torrent of molten gold.

Thorin listens most carefully to Bofur’s telling of their time in Laketown, of Kili’s close brush with death, of the orc attack on Bard’s house, the two elves who drove them off, and the elf lass who remained with them and employed Elven healing arts to save Kili’s life. Oin chimes in here to elaborate. Bilbo is feeling more and more hope as he looks at them all, seeing the kinship and camaraderie reemerging. But all is not well yet.

“And this she-elf, where is she now?” says Thorin, who has been observing Kili very closely.

Kili answers, “Her name is Tauriel.”

His voice has a sharpness to it that brings them all to stare at him. Kili and Thorin now seemed locked in each other’s gaze, and though no reason for real disagreement yet exists between them, Kili seems ready to find one and Thorin’s eyes pierce into his nephew’s as if suddenly discovering a new enemy.

Fili speaks up, “She returned to her own people just before we left Laketown. “ He looks nervously between Thorin and Kili, seeking to diffuse the situation, “you should know, Thorin, that Tauriel not only saved Kili’s life, she also helped destroy the dragon Smaug.”

Thorin’s eyes narrow at this, and all clamber for details of the battle against the dragon. As the bravery of Tauriel, Kili and Bard is now described enthusiastically by Fili with colorful additions by Bofur and Oin, Kili remains silent. Bilbo watches him with concerned curiosity, wondering at the great change in the light hearted young dwarf.

“Something’s out of kilter and no mistake.” Thinks Bilbo to himself. “Did that wound harden his heart? We never should have left him behind, that’s what.”

All too soon the novelty of the reunion wears off, and the mood turns to something quiet and uncertain, particularly following Fili’s innocent inquiry, “Have you found the Arkenstone?” Thorin’s countenance darkens as he shakes his head, looking distrustfully, for the hundredth time, at Bilbo.

Dwalin, in the interests of changing the subject, reports that a raven has been sent to their kin in the nearby Iron Hills, and that their leader, Dain, is expected to arrive with many hundreds of their kinsmen within the next few days.

The company breaks up into small groups again. Thorin catches hold of Bofur, who had clearly wanted to sit down with his own brother and Bombur. But he dutifully follows Thorin who takes him aside and begins to ask pointed questions about Kili.

Fili and Kili pair off together to go exploring. Bilbo watches them go, and after arguing with himself agonizingly for a long moment, he slips on the ring and follows behind them.

The two young dwarves make their way through the great treasure chamber, awed by the impossibly vast piles of gold, jewels and exquisitely made weapons that surround them. They are fascinated at first, whispering their amazement, then exclaiming more loudly, giddy with wonder at the particular pieces each of them begins to find. Fili happily begins discarding his own worn short swords and knives for the be-jeweled dwarf made blades he uncovers in the cascades of treasure around him. But he realizes that Kili is no longer with him. He finds his brother sitting in an indentation in the coins, resting his back against an ancient hand carved bow caster, all his interest in the treasure seemingly gone, all of his attention upon something cradled in his hand.

Bilbo has settled himself near where Kili sits, beginning to understand now what has been causing such changes in the young dwarf. The hobbit has never lost his own heart to anyone before, but he has seen the symptoms in others, and he has grown to know the dwarves well enough by now to begin to feel dread inside himself, growing stronger as he sees the look in Kili’s eyes as he strokes the silken red braid in his hand, bringing it close to his face, inhaling deeply.

Fili finds his brother, cocks his head, his brow furrowing. “You’ve never hidden anything from me before, Kili.”

Kili looks up at him, his expression unreadable. Fili sits down, and reaches for the braided elven hair. It is a mark of the trust between them that Kili allows him to take it. Fili examines it, looks up at Kili.

“Do ya love her then?”

Kili nods, “yes.”

Fili returns the braid to Kili and they are silent for a while.

“What are you going to do?” Fili finally asks.

Kili looks at Fili and speaks openly “Tauriel told me there is a darkness coming that goes beyond the dislike between elves and dwarves. So long as that threat exists, there is no choice. I won’t leave you.”

Fili regards his brother intently. He does not realize the kingly wisdom that he has inside him, that with every step of their quest he has been learning what he needs to know to lead his people, that the simple and fierce love and loyalty he has for his brother and for his own kind is well tempered with an understanding that goes beyond his years. Thorin and the others have not seen it, but Kili (and Bilbo as well) can sense it in Fili’s next words.

“And once this darkness passes, what then? Thorin will never accept her. You will have to choose between Tauriel and your kin, Kili.”

This spoken truth echoes against the hard, cold treasure around them. Bilbo shivers, a heaviness weighing inside him as he huddles against a pile of uncut rubies, their red glare hurting his eyes… or is it just that he is close to weeping? He is not sure.

Fili touches Kili’s arm, “Will you take her into the wild then? Breed a bunch of Dwelflings I will have to come visit and give piggy-back rides?”

Kili bursts out laughing and they laugh together helplessly. Bilbo has all he can do to stay quiet. His emotion leaks out of him in the form of tears without him even being aware.

Kili becomes serious again, “Fili this is my problem. You must not get dragged into this. “ he looks down at the braided hair again. “I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But suddenly I was in up to my neck and there was no going back, even if I’d wanted to.” He looks at Fili again, “But you are next in line to rule. You must not lose face with the others. If anything happens to Thorin, they must be able to look to you.”

They both look around the immense room, at the treasure that glows ominously at them. Kili speaks, finally, “What do you think mother would say about all of this?”

Fili looks at Kili, the thought turning around in his mind. Bilbo looks fascinated, staring at the two brothers with baited breath from behind the veil of the ring.

“I think…” begins Fili, “She would say it was… a bit much.”

Fili and Kili look at each other for a split second before they burst out laughing again. In between laughing they gasp out their memories of their mother’s pearls of wisdom; “You remember she was always telling you to put on your cloak because she was cold?”

“And when you began learning the bow she kept commenting you couldn’t hit a hole in a ladder!”

“Yer oot yer face!”

“Yer off yer head!”

“Yer bum’s oot the windah!”

And both together; “no man is poor who has a family!”

It warms Bilbo’s heart to hear them proclaim that “Bilbo would agree!” and to announce that it was definitely time to find some malt beer. They make their way towards the kitchens, launching into a chorus of

Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Smash the bottles and loose the corks

Chip the glasses and crack the plates

That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!


	10. Tauriel Speaks Her Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel knew it would be risky for her to return to her Woodland Realm. Thranduil lives up to her expectations: intimidating, racist, shortsighted and selfish (basically a Nazi). She is as brash and rebellious as Kili is, and can no more hide her feelings than Kili can. But her courage does not fail, and she adds further to the education of her kinsman, Legolas.

Tauriel stands in Thranduil’s throne room, flanked by two of the King’s personal guard. Thranduil is walking in a circle around her, like a predator circling its prey.

“So I am to understand that the dragon of the Lonely Mountain is slain.”

Tauriel answers, her head high, her eyes forward. “That is correct.”

“And this task was accomplished by arrows shot from yourself, a human and that dwarf archer of Thorin’s company?”

“Bard brought down the dragon with a black arrow. Kili and I aided him by blinding the beast.”

Thranduil looks sharply at her. “So you are on a first name basis with them? How quaint. I thought the dwarf had been wounded with a Morugol tipped arrow…how did he manage to recover?”

Tauriel winces but keeps her head high, her voice steady as she answers, “I employed the Elven healing arts to stop the effects of the poison.”

Thranduil continues to circle, his eyes narrowing dangerously now. “And where was my son Legolas while you were doing these good deeds for dwarf and humankind?”

Tauriel finally bows her head. “Legolas left to follow the pack of orcs that had attacked Thorin’s company westward.”

“And why did you not accompany him?!”

“The young dwarf was dying. I was the only one who could save him.”

“You betrayed your Prince! Your People!”Thranduil finally raises his voice and comes at Tauriel with all of his great height, menacing, malevolent

Tauriel stands firm, and looks him right in the eye. “I did what I felt to be right.”

“You disobeyed me by leaving my realm when I had ordered it closed, and then you influence my son to follow you in a crusade to help other races that are none of your business! You are out of control and do not know where your duty lies!”

“Had I not known where my duty lies I would never have returned here my Lord!”

Her voice rings out in the underground hall. Thranduil stares at her, an insane light in his eyes.

“There is a darkness coming, and soon it will not matter whether we are human, dwarf or elf. We are all threatened. We can no longer hide from it here, my Lord. It took the effort of human, elf and dwarf together to defeat Smaug. It will require all to work together again to defeat this coming evil, which I fear is even greater than a dragon.”

But Thranduil has only been listening. He has spotted something in the folds of Tauriel’s clothes, something that confirms his suspicions, and he snatches at it. It is Kili’s stone talisman. He holds it up, sees the look in Trauriel’s eyes. The guards go a shade paler and look at each other nervously. They have seldom seen their King this angry, as Thranduil’s face reddens and his lips curl in disgust.

“You have feelings for this dwarf!”

“My Lord, have you not heard what I have been saying?”

“You have sunk lower than even your Silvan lineage! Betrayed all of our kind!”

“If I had not saved Kili’s life, the dragon might not have been slain!”

But Thranduil’s mind is turning, seeing ways he may use what he has just learned, his eyes glowing with an age old desire for the white star gems of Erebor, now unguarded except for a handful of dwarves, and one of them foolish enough to be infatuated with his own captain of the guard.

“Take her to the dungeons,” He finally says carelessly. “And then prepare for a journey to the Lonely Mountain. It is time to pay the new dwarves of Erebor a visit.”

Tauriel feels a chill at the cold steel in Thranduil’s voice.

“a fully armed visit.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

The people of Laketown are glad that the dragon is gone, but are wondering now and beginning to talk amongst themselves about the rest of the prophecy. Now that dwarves have returned to Erebor, and the dragon is dead, won’t there be riches flowing to them from the Lonely Mountain?

Kili, Fili, Bofur and Oin have given them a more positive and generous image of dwarves, and didn’t Thorin Oakenshield himself promise them that they would share in the gold once it was liberated, and that their town would prosper again?

Bard and his family are doing somewhat better than they were before the dragon was defeated. The town people have turned to him as their leader, and most are relieved to be rid of the corrupt Master of Laketown. But the people are still suffering. In spite of repairs and shelters built with help from the dwarves in previous weeks, many families are still homeless and sharing houses with other families. Winter is well underway, and much of their food stores and livestock were destroyed during Smaug’s attack. Food and fuel are scarce, and whatever wealth they had went to the bottom of the Lake with their cowardly Master and his henchman.

Bard sees no other alternative but to travel to Erebor and ask the dwarves for the treasure they had promised them. He might be able to negotiate, then, either with the Wood Elves or Southern towns for winter supplies if he had gold with which to barter. He selects a group of men to travel with him, along with his son Bane, and begins a trek to the Lonely Mountain.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The sky above Mirkwood has begun to darken. All know the dragon is slain, but the immense riches of Erebor and the prospect of slaughtering thousands of innocents to gain it draws the foul spirit of Sauron and his 9 ring wraiths onward, the sky now dark enough for his immense orc and goblin army to travel in the day time.

But Sauron can feel the guardians of Middle Earth behind him. They have infiltrated the forest, robbing it of his dark power, returning it to the weak, organic denizens of the woodlands. A huge section of Mirkwood has been undone by these meddling wizards, and Sauron is enraged. He drives his army forward towards the Lonely Mountain with instructions to Azog to kill everyone in his path in the object of conquering the lonely Mountain.

Then Sauron and the nine wraiths turn back towards the seven members of the White Counsel to push back the great green sparkling ocean with a broom.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Tauriel sits in one of the very cells where Thorin and his company were imprisoned by her own people only a few short weeks ago.

She thinks of her first encounter with Kili, which occurred only a stone’s throw from where she is now. In spite of her situation, in spite of her clairvoyance, she is comforted by the fond memory of the dwarf she has come to love. He has the brightest, purest spirit she has ever encountered.

Suddenly there is a tapping at the bars of her cell. Several of the members of her own guard are there, beckoning to her. She recognizes them. They are the younger members of her squadrons.

“Captain Tauriel?” their leader reaches through the bars to grasp her hand. “We have stayed behind. We heard you had been imprisoned, and could not follow our King’s orders to march on the Lonely Mountain for naught but power and white jewels while you were not with us.”

He looks anxious, but committed. “What are your orders, Captain?”

Tauriel’s eyes brighten and a smile spreads across her face.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is soon after this that Celeborn and his party arrive at the Woodland Realm. They are greeted by Tauriel and the remants of the realm who are loyal to her. They tell Celeborn of Thranduil’s march to Erebor, and of their greater concern over the orcs marching through Mirkwood.

Celeborn is impressed with Tauriel. Legolas, too, is greatly affected as he watches her organize Elvish resources into a small but lethal force that will, with Celeborn’s help, seek to protect Laketown and any other Middle Earth people before it seeks anything else.

It is Legolas who finds Kili’s stone talisman near his father’s throne in the great hall. He picks it up and considers it.

“A promise…” he murmurs, “a promise to return.”

He closes his eyes and images of his own mother form in his mind.

He frowns at the stone, then tucks it into a pocket.


	11. Confrontation between Kili and Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dwarf Prince would have a difficult time explaining being in love with an elf to his King even in the best of circumstances, but with Thorin poisoned by gold fever, Kili is lucky to get away with his skin intact.

Bilbo is contemplating his own mineral burdens. He has crawled into the little room where he has hidden the Arkenstone, the one place he knows the other dwarves cannot follow him. He delves into a corner and brings out the Arkenstone, holding it reverently in his hands. It glows and pulsates with color and energy.

“A king’s jewel indeed…” he breathes, as the glow of the stone bathes his face in light. “But what if giving it to Thorin does him harm, instead of good?”

Bilbo feels overwhelmed by the choice. He pulls the ring out of his pocket and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger, considering the effects of objects like these on impressionable, mortal minds.

“There is something not right about this ring.” Bilbo thinks. He can feel it. Even Smaug knew it. No good gift would it make to anyone, despite its usefulness in making the wearer invisible. He is beginning to regret ever having found it.

But this Arkenstone…it did not feel evil. Whatever evil came of it was to be found in its possessor. And Bilbo could not believe Thorin to be evil. Stubborn perhaps, and prideful, certainly. But all through their journey, Thorin had been a leader who had cared for his people, often putting their safety before his own. It was Thorin who had surrendered his sword first when he saw that the Trolls had Bilbo by the arms and legs. It was Thorin who had swung down over the cliff’s edge to rescue Bilbo when he’d fallen during the Thunder battle, Thorin who had been last into the safety of the cave when the orcs on Whargs had attacked them near the Hidden Valley.

Bilbo did not know a lot about how Kings were supposed to behave. From his comfortable hobbit hole, such personages seemed distant and unfathomable. But if ever there were a person who seemed fit for a crown and a throne, Thorin was the one in Bilbo’s mind. Perhaps the stubbornness and pride was an asset for such a leader. Perhaps the seriousness and grimness of Thorin’s recent behavior were to be expected when a King returned to his own Kingdom.

“in any case, Bilbo Baggins, it’s all much bigger and loftier than you, and you’d best not try to pass judgment on matters not of your experience.”

He nodded to himself. It was time to give the stone to Thorin. It was his by right; Bilbo never should have meddled with any of it.

He picks himself up, and putting the ring on just in case, begins to make his way out of his small room into the great hall. It is then that he hears Thorin’s voice. Amazed at the serendipity and convinced it is a sign that he’s made the right decision, Bilbo hurries over, about to remove the ring from his finger.

“Kili!” Thorin’s voice is stern.

Kili and Fili are walking together further on, and Thorin is calling to them. Kili looks dubiously at his brother. Fili pats his shoulder and turns to continue walking as Kili goes obediently to Thorin. Bilbo watches and listens.

“yes, Uncle?”

“Bofur tells me that you became close with the elf woman you encountered in Laketown. I want to know right now from you how far it went.”

“You are speaking of Tauriel?”

“Yes.”

“The one who saved my life after you left me behind for fear I’d be a burden to you?”

Thorin grabs Kili and shoves him hard against a nearby stone pillar. He is so angry that he does not notice that there is no fear in his nephew’s face, as there might have been months ago when this quest had begun.

“Do not show disrespect to me, nephew! You are no longer a youngling of 30 years, you are a fully mature dwarf of 51, old enough to know your duties and where you allegiance lies! I will not have my orders questioned and I will have my query answered!”

Kili’s eyes regard Thorin steadily as he answers, “My allegiance lies with you and my dwarf brothers. My sword and bow have always been at the service of that end, and will continue to be, or I would not be standing here now.”

Thorin is only slightly mollified. His next words come softly but dangerously, “You have not yet answered my question.”

Kili is silent for an uneasy moment.

“Whatever passed between Tauriel and me is private.” He finally says.

Thorin pushes violently away from Kili, “That’s not good enough!” he shouts.

“What would you have me say?!”

“So you are in love with her then!”

“It is no one’s affair but my own!”

“KILI!”

Thorin grabs him by the shoulders again, “You are a dwarf prince of Erebor! You cannot associate yourself with a she-elf of the same Woodland Realm that betrayed our people and left us homeless for generations!”

“Tauriel is not responsible for her people’s betrayal, in fact she betrayed her own people by choosing to save my life and may even be suffering right now for her choice! Uncle!” Kili tries to reason with Thorin, “Where is it written that dwarves must hate elves? What benefit has this hatred ever brought us?”

Thorin looks wild eyed with rage now. He pulls his sword out of its scabbard, and points it at Kili, whose eyes open wide. Kili spreads his hands, but does not back away or reach for his own sword.

Fili has been listening nearby, hidden, and he catches his breath at the sound of Thorin’s sword. Bilbo, too, is standing frozen with fear, wondering what if anything he might do to prevent a tragedy.

“She put these ideas into your head. She bewitched you.”

“no…”

“She sought to get close to you to discover the company’s plans.”

“Uncle our plans were hardly a secret by the time she encountered us.”

Thorin waves the sword towards Kili’s throat. Kili flinches but still does not move.

“You were my hope Kili! I was grooming you to lead! You have disappointed me by showing this weakness, by allying yourself with our enemies!”

The halls echo with this anguished proclamation. Kili stands shocked. Bilbo is open-mouthed. Fili’s eyes close and his face falls into such grim lines as to make him seem to age a hundred years in a single moment.

“Foreswear her, Kili. Foreswear any further connection to her, on this sword.”

“I cannot.”

“Foreswear!”

“Even if I did it would be a lie!”

Thorin seems possessed, and is actually drawing his sword back as if to strike at Kili when a call comes from the front gate.

“Thorin! There are men from Laketown arriving on the other side of the River!”

Thorin turns, looks threateningly at Kili. “This isn’t finished.” And then he runs towards the front gate, his sword still unsheathed.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fili steps out now, and the two brothers regard each other in shocked silence.

“You are unhurt?”

“I am not hurt.”

“He threatened you with an unsheathed blade??”

It is more a statement than a question.

“aye”

More silence, as Thorin’s most recent words are recalled by both of them. Fili shrugs, grins sadly.

“’Always knew he liked you best.”

“Fili you must not take what he said to heart, he is not in his right mind.”

“No,” Fili rallies, “I suppose not.”

“And you know very well I’ve never wanted to be King. It wouldn’t suit me at all.” They both grin at this though neither have the heart to laugh.

“No, I will serve you t’il I die, and Thorin as well, if he’ll let me.” They both look towards the front gate. “What can be happening to him? He’s become totally paranoid.”

“Do you think it’s as Balin says, that the treasure is cursed?”

Kili nods, “could be. Perhaps the sooner we are rid of some of it, the better. We’d better get up there, no telling how Thorin will behave towards the Lake men in his present state.”

They run towards the front gate.

Nearby, Bilbo finally removes the ring, his legs giving out under him. He falls to his knees on the cold stone. He knows he cannot give the Arkenstone to Thorin now, and shakes his head with grief and bewilderment. He finally brings himself to return to his secret room to hide the stone and the ring again where no one can find them, before racing to join the others at the front gate.


	12. Bilbo and Kili Exiled from Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bard arrives at Erebor, he is predictably refused help by Thorin, who has become totally irrational. When Bilbo and then Kili try to reason with him, they are ousted. Bilbo is devastated, and the fate of the Arkenstone is decided.

When Bilbo reaches the gate, which the dwarves have spent much time fortifying, he sees that Bard, his son Bain, and a hundred or so of the Lakemen have come to the foot of the door of Erebor, and are speaking to Thorin who stands high above them on top of the great gate. All the other dwarves stand behind him there, including Fili and Kili. They all looked concerned, and Bilbo sees immediately that things are not going well.

Thorin is calling down to the Lakemen, “We already paid you, for the so-called services you provided us. For being packed in fish, drawn out of toilets and provided with shabby weapons.”

The dwarves behind him grumble in agreement here, although Fili and Kili remain silent, and Bilbo frowns, appalled at Thorin’s distorted and ungrateful view of Bard’s service to him.

“In any case, nothing will we give, not even a loaf’s worth, under the threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves!”

Young Bain is outraged, and begins to speak but Bard his father stops him. “Thorin, if you fence yourself in and give nothing but insults and ill-will to those who visit you, how will you manage your mountain kingdom? You must depend on the goods of the land around you, and the good will of those who farm and keep it. Your treasure must be fine to look at, but I doubt it is good to eat.

“We will camp by the River, and we hope tomorrow when we return to speak with you again your heart will be changed in favor of becoming our friends and not our enemies.”

Thorin sneers at the Lakemen, and turns back to the others, “Seal up the door and draw up the ropes. Bombur, take first watch.”

They make their way inside now, to a room they have been gathering in to eat the remainder of the cram given to them, ironically, by the Lakemen Thorin has just insulted. Bilbo is deeply discouraged and can barely believe what the others tell him, that Bard, after reporting that Smaug is dead but his people are cold and hungry and in need of the gold Thorin promised them, was told in no uncertain terms that no gold would ever be shared with them. The cram is dry and drops down into Bilbo’s stomach like stone. In fact he is heartily sick of this whole place. It is very grand, but where are the soft cozy places to sit and read? Or pantries filled with food and drink? Or even a little window where one might look out and see growing things? Erebor is like living in a great museum- a nice place to visit, but not to live.

The dwarves are at their lowest tonight. Fili and Kili sit apart, talking quietly. All the others are somber, barely eating. They speak low about Bard’s words concerning food stores, and worry that he is correct about making enemies of local peoples, when surely there is enough gold to share even after their kin from the Iron Hills arrive. Only Dwalin sits loyally by Thorin, who finally stands up abruptly, commanding silent looks from all of them.

“You malcontents. I bring you halfway across the world, I lead you to liberate our ancient home, Erebor and all its riches are yours and you are still not satisfied?!”

There is an uncomfortable moment, finally broken by Bilbo, who gets to his feet.

“Thorin, I am only a humble Hobbit, and not learned in the ways of running a great kingdom like this one. I do know that a home, a real one, cannot subsist without a garden outside. You have golden treasure and high stone ceilings, but your kitchens are empty and your hearth fires are cold. Bard is right, you will need the goods of farmers and herdsmen to at least feed your people. You have enough treasure in your halls that even if you gave half of it away you would still have enough for a thousand lifetimes!”

“Just like a hobbit.” Says Thorin coldly. “Your stomach always comes first doesn’t it master burglar?”

There are looks and sighs among the dwarves. They rather agree with Bilbo about improving the food situation. They also see that this is not all Bilbo is trying to say.

Bilbo tries again, “But you made a promise to them, Thorin! Before all the people and the Master of Laketown himself you promised they would all share in the gold of Erebor!”

“Again you show your ignorance of the world—you are right, you know nothing of running a kingdom. We committed to this quest and did all the work and suffering to gain back this treasure, and I will not allow every commoner who comes by with his hand out to make off with it!”

Bilbo shakes his head. “I did not come with you all this way for the sake of your treasure! I came to help you reclaim your home! And do you know what I have found out?”

They all look at Bilbo now.

“You never lost it in the first place. You’ve been carrying it with you ever since I first met you in Hobbiton.”

The dwarves frown in confusion at Bilbo, whispering about what he could mean. But Balin smiles and nods slowly, and Kili and Fili look at the hobbit with great respect and affection.

Bilbo continues to try to explain, “You are a family of brothers. You’ve traveled together through all kinds of dangers and never lost your trust in each other, always had each other’s backs, faced everything as one, shared everything. Until you arrived here—then everything changed.”

The dwarves murmur at this. Thorin’s eyebrow raises.

“You don’t need all this treasure Thorin! I don’t need it.” Bilbo’s eyes brighten, “Take my fourteenth share and give it to the Lakemen! I have the right to dispose of my portion as I wish—that is my choice!”

The dwarves all exclaim at this pronouncement, looking at Bilbo with amazement and some with new respect.

But Thorin is unmoved. “Your contracted share of the treasure was only to be given to you on the condition that you locate and deliver the Arkenstone to me, which you have failed to do.”

The hobbit and the company are speechless. Even Dwalin stares at Thorin with doubt, now.

Finally it is Kili who rises to speak, with his hand firmly pushing down on Fili’s shoulder since Fili is attempting to rise with him.

“Bilbo is right.”

Thorin glares at him.

“About what?”

“We were happier on the road. And this treasure…it has done nothing good for us. We would be better off to be generous with it, and expend our energies in forming alliances with local folk rather than forming enemies.”

“Alliances…” repeats Thorin, “with elves for example?”

“With men, with elves, with whomever will engage in fair speech and fair trade with us!”

The dwarves are nodding at Kili’s words, but cower as Thorin loses his temper.

“No advice will I take from a dwarf who takes a she-elf into his heart! A she-elf of the Woodland Realm, no less! This is a scheme of Thranduil’s to get his hands on the white star jewels he imagines to be his, and Kili here—“ Thorin drags Kili into the center of their circle, pointing at him and shouting to the others, “—was fool enough to fall under the spell of one of our enemies! And all of you want to trust his words? Or perhaps the words of an ignorant little Hobbit burglar!?”

He grabs Bilbo and stands him next to Kili, and then in a low and contemptuous voice, Thorin orders them both to turn out their pockets before the entire company.

Bilbo is thankful that he has hidden the Arkenstone and ring in his secret chamber, but he is shaking none-the-less as he obediently kneels next to Kili and digs down into his clothes to pull out any objects he can find. Kili does the same beside him, and in front of them both on the stone floor two small collections of objects accumulate which consist of such innocent contents that the dwarves looking on grow more and more mortified and ashamed of their leader’s cruel order.

Smoking pipes, packets of tobacco, a few coins, an unfinished arrow shaft and whittling knife (Kili’s) a pocket handkerchief (Bilbo’s) some folded paper with unfinished poems scrawled on them (Bilbo’s again) some dried apples, a coiled bit of rope, a whetstone, some wooden spoons, and spare pairs of gloves.

“Dwalin!” Dwalin comes forward and obediently pats them both down, going as far as to pick Bilbo up and shake him.

Kili and Thorin’s eyes are locked in a duel now, and Thorin finally speaks again to Kili only.

“Hand it over, now.” He holds out his hand.

The others wonder what Thorin can want—the Arkenstone? Where would he have it? He’s already been completely searched. But Fili knows what Thorin wants and he can hardly bear to watch. Bofur looks miserable too, and Bilbo, thoroughly mortified and emotionally overwhelmed, can barely keep his feet.

But Kili shows no emotion at all as he calmly reaches into the cuff of leather armor that covers his left forearm, and pulls out the shimmering braided lock of Tauriel’s hair. He places it into Thorin’s hand without hesitating.

“So you see.” Thorin holds up the lock for the others as though he were holding up a dead mouse.

“No dwarf can serve two masters. Kili is no longer one of us and cannot be trusted.”

The dwarves, who were looking with wonder at the elven lock, now react with horror at Thorin’s words. Kili’s face turns ashen but he betrays himself no other way, even when Thorin tosses Tauriel’s gift to him into the fire.

“If you were happier on the road, go and find it again.” Says Thorin to Kili, and then to Bilbo, “Go back to your little home and garden, hobbit. These hallowed halls are no place for you.” Thorin walks away from the group and towards the hall where the treasure lies, ordering all the dwarves to follow him and find the Arkenstone before he will allow them to sleep again.

They trail after him slowly, reluctantly. Bofur comes over to Kili first, his eyes full of tears, “I’m so sorry, lad. He asked me questions and I had to answer them…” Kili takes his hand, “Be at peace, Bofur. It would never have remained a secret.”

Balin and Fili remain to help them pick up their belongings from the floor.

Poor Bilbo is overcome. This confrontation with Thorin has frightened and exhausted him even more than his encounter with Smaug. His legs seem made of jelly and he has never wished more fervently to be back in his hobbit hole, safe in his armchair under his mother’s afghan with a warm brandy.

“What will become of us? I shouldn’t have spoken! I opened my mouth and put my foot right into it as always, I’ve gotten you into trouble, I’ve ruined everything! And how am I ever going to get all the way home by myself?”

The others are generous in their efforts to soothe and reassure the hobbit, and as is often the case, the act of comforting someone more upset than yourself tends to make one’s own troubles seem less. So it is for Kili, who breathes a little easier in the face of his own banishment as he realizes he still has a brother to care for.

It is Fili who takes the lead. “You must both leave tonight, and you will do best to seek out Bard’s encampment. He seems a true-hearted and rational man and will keep you safe until the next events in this predicament come to pass. Balin, do you remember the mithril coat and helmet we found? Take Bilbo and go and find it and put it onto him. Then make sure he has all the belongings he wishes to take from this place and meet us back at the front gate in one hour.”

Balin nods, gathering Bilbo easily into his arms, and hurrying off.

Now Fili turns to Kili. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like taking off to go elf- hunting in a countryside about to erupt into a war.”

Kili smiles. “I won’t go far, and if war does come I’ll be by your side, you can count on that.”

Kili grasps his brother’s arm then, “You must hold them together, Fili. Make sure they are ready when the real darkness comes.”

When they meet up with the others at the gate Bombur is blissfully asleep. He does not witness the emotional parting of siblings and friends, as Kili and Bilbo take their leave of Erebor and head towards the campfires of Bard and his men.


	13. The Battle between Sauron and the White Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf, Saruman, Radaghast, Elrond, Galadriel and the two blue wizards drive Sauron out of Mirkwood.

Under the trees in the Southern part of Mirkwood, light power encounters dark power. The wizards and high elves, their arms and staffs and rings raised, send their power and strength against the black shadow that attempts to surround them.

Each one uses that area of strength that is uniquely theirs. The two water wizards harness the rivers and streams, even the humidity in the air and form it into sparkling daggers that fly at their enemies.

Galadriel and Elrond employ their bows and arrows, their projectiles glowing with the power that emanates from their Elven Rings. They target the nine riders, doing their best to unhorse them and drive them towards the greater river where the water might wash them away towards Mordor.

Radaghast pursues the spiders, casting the magic that he gathers from his love of animals against the monstrous creatures. The baby rabbit cradled in his robes is a source of power for this small wizard—Radaghast himself does not fully realize the potency of it. But the spiders do, and they retreat from him in fear. The touch of his staff on any of them, when he does manage it, results in instant death to the monsters, and as his sled glides through the woods tiny flowers bloom in its wake.

Sarumon and Gandalf focus their power on Sauron himself. Sarumon’s strength lies in his voice, and as he faces this blackest of shadows with its flaming red demon eye at its center, Sarumon’s voice booms incantations that reverberate through the wood with an iron will. Sauron flinches backwards, but always flows back at them, laughing, taunting, surrounding them and threatening to cut them off from the others.

Gandalf’s strength was always founded in his understanding of the people of Middle Earth—their gifts, strength and weaknesses. This extended to enemies that arose, as well. Gandalf’s greatest gift, however is similar to Radaghast’s; his great love for this world’s people. Sarumon had always insisted that this was a weakness, this partiality towards those he served. But Gandalf had never been deterred from allowing himself to open his heart to friendship. Gandalf has thought often of Sauron’s words during his last unfortunate encounter with him in Dol Goldur. “There is no light that can defeat the darkness!”

“No…” thinks Gandalf now, “no one light perhaps. But many together, now that is another matter.”

Gandalf’s staff glows brightly now as he thinks this, as he rides together with his fellow guardians, and as he feels within him his affection for Bilbo, for Thorin Oakenshield, for all 13 dwarves and their spirit and courage, for his many human, elf and dwarf friends, each one special, unique and wonderful and every one of them threatened by Sauron. His staff glows even brighter, his awareness reaching out to the other guardians and harnessing them, weaving their power together so that the light around them grows until Sauron is overcome and begins to retreat.

In the final minutes of the battle, the nine riders are pitched into the great river and washed away towards Mordor. Sauron is surrounded by all seven guardians, his shadow is corralled and squeezed and he is enraged.

It is Radaghast who strikes the final blow, but at great cost. As the others maintain a storm of water, power, voice and light around Sauron, little Radaghast marches towards him with his staff raised, the stone in its tip glowing bright and green as a new leaf. A flock of sparrows swirl around him as he goes right up to the shadow.

“Begone from this wood, you foul spirit!” he says stoutly, and thrusts his staff into the burning red eye.

There is an unearthly scream from Sauron. Red lightening flows down Radaghast’s staff and surrounds him. All the sparrows drop dead at once, and the little wizard collapses. Sauron is neutralized, and his shadow fades and slinks into the river, flowing downstream to join the ring wraiths.

Light flows back through the canopy of the forest.

Gandalf drops to his knees at Radaghast’s side and cradles the fallen wizard’s head in his arms. The others gather around them.

“Lie still old friend.”

“Gandalf, we really gave it to him, didn’t we?”

Galadriel kneels down with Elrond to see if they can help. They find the baby rabbit, alive and well nestled near Radaghast’s quickly failing heart.

Galadriel looks sorrowfully at Gandalf. There is no help for their friend.

“It is a beautiful place to die, isn’t it Gandalf? “ Says Radaghast, his face serene, his eyes unfocused.

“Yes,” says Gandalf, “It is.”


	14. Legolas and Tauriel talk by Firelight

Celeborn and Tauriel’s column of mounted elves have been traveling up the West side of Long Lake. The have stopped at Laketown to give aid to the people there, who are still struggling to find food and keep warm as winter descends on them. From them they learn that Bard and his men have met with Thorin at the Lonely Mountain, and that their request for a share of the treasure of Erebor has been refused. They also learn that a large mounted army of Woodland Elves passed by without stopping just a day before them, led by Thranduil, heavily armed and looking very grim indeed.

Legolas is again troubled to hear of his father’s apathy towards the suffering people of Laketown. His eyes have been opening recently and he is beginning to see things he never had before. His father had always taught him to protect himself against feeling the suffering of others. But now it floods in upon him, and although it is a heavy thing, Legolas feels more alive and connected to his world than he ever did before.

The Lake is almost entirely covered with ice and snow, and people are huddled around fires outdoors, eating dried crusts of cram and sharing one fish caught through the ice amongst one family. He finds it satisfying to pitch in, erecting more shelters, bringing firewood from the mainland forest, going bow-hunting with Tauriel to bring the people fresh game.

As always, he looks at Tauriel with admiration, and sees now what a fool he has been not to declare himself to her sooner. For he can clearly see that whatever she might have felt for him before is no longer there.

He struggles to understand this. The young dwarf who passed so briefly through their Woodland Realm has completely occupied her heart, and he has come to the point where he is finally more curious about it than he is angry. Fingering the stone talisman he still has in his pocket, Legolas finds Tauriel by her fire that evening and sits down with her.

She smiles in greeting, offering him some of the tea she has made. He accepts and after a quiet moment of them both sipping and staring into the fire, Legolas removes the stone from his pocket and offers it to her.

“ I found this in my father’s throne room. I think you may know something about it?”

Tauriel is taken off guard and stares at the stone in his hand for a moment without moving. Slowly she sets down her tea, and takes the stone from him.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“It is his, isn’t it?”

She looks at him warily.

“The dwarf whose life you saved, the one you are in love with?”

Now she is staring open mouthed. Legolas cannot help laughing.

“Be easy, Tauriel. I am not angry. My father ordered you to keep your distance from me, did he not?”

She answers him with a sad look.

He nods, “I thought so.” He kicks at the fire with his boot. “It is high time I learn to follow my own counsel instead of my father’s. I have you to thank for a beginning in that direction. I am grateful to you for that, Tauriel.”

Tauriel shakes her head in amazement at Legolas. “I shall never doubt again that wondrous things will occur in this World when you least expect them!”

He raises his cup to hers and they drink to this.

“I admit myself quite fascinated by this connection you have made with…?”

“His name is Kili.”

“How did it happen? You are so different.”

Tauriel tries to explain to Legolas how her head was turned, how confined she had always felt in the Woodland Realm, and how attracted she was to Kili’s tales of roaming the Greenway in total freedom. She tells him that compared to the grim agelessness of elves, Kili’s spirit seemed warmer and more alive to her, and that instead of looking down on her as so many elf-males did, Kili looked up to her and made her feel appreciated.

She looks at Legolas. He has listened to every word, and finally puts down his tea.

“Well, I am almost envious.”

“I hope it will happen for you someday as it did for me, my Lord.”

“Ah, well…” he grins, “I do not think so. I have seen my share of dwarf maidens… “

She bursts out laughing.

“…And taking nothing away from your Kili’s fine attributes I will say no thank you, just the same.”


	15. Kili and Bilbo visit Bard's ecampment

“I think you had better set me down, now, Kili. I ought to walk into this camp on my own two feet or I should be ashamed of myself.”

Kili complies with Bilbo’s request, setting the hobbit down gently on the cobblestones of the river they have crossed. Bilbo sways slightly—the mithril coat he wears is light compared to most armor, but to Bilbo it may as well be made of iron since he has never worn armor before at all. He does admit it is a most beautiful thing, and Balin had assured him that it would keep him safe from any blade, being as tough as dragon scales. In any case, the further he gets from Erebor, the stronger the hobbit feels.

The lights of the fires of Bard’s camp are just ahead. Sentries command them to halt, and they identify themselves honestly, asking to speak with Bard immediately if possible. They are directed into a tent, given warm drinks, and soon Bard and his son Bane enter and sit down with them.

Bard is surprised and curious about their arrival. Bain is less guarded as he remembers well Kili’s bravery and generosity towards the Lakemen, and remembers Bilbo as the only member of Thorin’s company who had any manners.

“Why have you come? Has Thorin had a change of heart? Are you here to offer terms of friendship?” Bain asks excitedly, but his father sees in the dwarf and hobbit before him that there are no glad tidings forthcoming.

“We have not come representing Thorin, no.” begins Bilbo, “I wish it were otherwise. We must instead warn you to be on your guard. Thorin will not part with any of his treasure. We tried to reason with him, but to no avail. We were both rewarded with banishment.”

Bard’s eyes narrow, looking sharply at Kili whom he knows to be Thorin’s own nephew. “Can this be true?”

Kili speaks, “He is not in his right mind. We think the treasure, long under a dragon’s spell, has bewitched him. But whatever the reason, there is now much distrust among my brothers.

“Yet there are two up there you can still trust to deal honestly and fairly with you; my brother Fili, and my kinsman Balin. You also need to know that there are many more of my kin coming from the Iron Hills; Dain and 600 of his warriors will be here in two days.”

Bard’s eyes widen at this. Bilbo speaks, “If they enter the mountain and fall under the same madness as Thorin, there will be a recipe for much trouble for all.”

Bard nods, understanding what he must do. Kili speaks again, “In the meantime I beg you not to give fight to my brothers even if they offer it. For there is a much greater danger coming from the South. There I can only claim knowledge of this from Tauriel, whom you both knew well as a friend to the Lakemen.”

“How did she describe this danger?” asks Bard, more and more amazed at what he is hearing.

“She described a hoard of beings, orcs most likely, led by a shadow originating in Mirkwood.”

“So this differs from the mounted column of Woodland elves that we have been told approach us from the South?”

Kili stares at Bard, his entire demeanor changed.

“Woodland elves? Who leads them?”

“That is unclear. Some reports say Celeborn, some say Thranduil.”

Kili stands up. Bilbo looks at him, worried. But the young dwarf has already decided his course.

“My Lord Bard, I must leave your company.”

Bard’s eyes narrow. “I think what you are planning is not wise. If your lady is among the elves she will be here soon enough.”

Bilbo agrees, “Bard is right, Kili, don’t put yourself in further danger now.”

“She may be in harm’s way by her own people because of me. I must know. I will return as soon as I can.”

Bard rises and shakes Kili’s hand, promising to look after Bilbo.

After Kili takes his leave, Bilbo has more to reveal.

“I have brought you something, Lord Bard. Perhaps you may use this to help ease the needs of your people. In any case, I no longer want the responsibility of it, and can think of no better recipient for it.”

Bilbo draws out the Arkenstone from his deepest pocket. Its light fills the tent with colorful tendrils of rainbows. They all sit entranced. Bard reaches for it and takes it, looking with undisguised wonder at the hobbit.

“This is the King’s Jewel! No one has seen it since Smaug first entered the Mountain!”

Bilbo nods, “It is the Arkenstone, yes. I think none of dwarves, not even Kili or Fili, would be pleased to know I have brought it to you. But I have come to believe that what makes a true king has nothing to do with the jewels he possesses. Whichever of my dwarf friends becomes their next leader, he will do better if he achieves his throne without this particular gem. I am terrified that I may be wrong about this matter, but I say this to you now as my witnesses, I give away this gem out of love for my dwarf brothers and for no other reason.”

Bard and Bane sit in awe of the hobbit. Bard shakes his head in amazement.

“Truly you are not one to be under estimated, Master Baggins. I will treasure this act I have witnessed far more than the treasure itself. It will indeed go towards helping the people of Laketown.”

Bilbo smiles, “I also brought a bit more.” He brings out several small parcels, one is a small bag of gold coins, two contain a pair of fine pearl necklaces for Bard’s daughters, and the last one holds a fine wrought short sword for Bane with a jeweled hilt. “I am sorry I could not carry more. Thorin certainly would not have missed it. But they did hire me to be a burglar, so I decided my last act in Erebor may as well live up to my title.”

Bard and Bain are delighted, and exclaim their appreciation of the fine gifts. Bard must excuse himself to go tend to other matters, but Bain remains with Bilbo, and asks the hobbit if he has ever had his portrait drawn. Bilbo replies that he has not, so in the last hour of this exhausting day, he sits in the warmly lighted tent, keeping politely still with his eyes forward as Bain, son of Bard, uses his finest charcoals and parchment to sketch the features of his face as he thinks fondly of Hobbiton, and wonders to himself how all of this will end.


	16. Kili Captured by Thranduil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili has brashly gone against his brother Fili's advice and gone hunting for Tauriel, worried she may be suffering at her own people's hands. He is in for some abuse himself when the Wood elves catch him and identify him as the dwarf who dared dally with one of their maidens.

It is inevitable that Kili is captured by the Woodland Elves. He takes great care not to be, concealing himself carefully the moment he realizes it is Thranduil and not Celeborn that leads the elves he encounters. But Thranduil had already planned on capturing the “black haired archer” reported to have fallen for Tauriel, and had sent scouts everywhere with specific orders to look for a young dwarf traveling alone.

Kili is brought to Thranduil none too gently, his hands bound in front of him, and forced to his knees.

“So you are the one who has captured the heart of my captain of the guard?”

Kili glares up at Thranduil, silent.

Thranduil circles him, bending down to force Kili’s chin upwards with the hilt of his sword, turning the dwarf’s face this way and that, as their campfire circle begins to become a gathering place for elves curious to see the dwarf who dared to claim one of their maidens.

“Hmm. He does seem to lack some of the coarser, uglier features of his race.”

“He is still young. The heavy brow ridges and bulbous nose may come later.”

“Even if not, look at those heavy shoulders and legs. Surely there is the start of a hump on his back?”

“I’ve heard they are actually quite strong, but not very quick.”

Kili has had about all he can stand of this, “Perhaps you’d like a demonstration!” and he brings his tied hands upward with such speed that he manages to club Thranduil in the chin before his captors subdue him roughly, wrapping ropes around his upper arms and legs to prevent any more such mishaps.

“Ah, so this one is quick!” says Thranduil to general laughter, rubbing his jaw. But he has been angered, and he kneels down to put his face close to Kili’s.

“I understand dwarves have a very high threshold for pain. Weren’t you injured….here?” Thranduil’s hand clutches suddenly at the place above Kili’s right knee where the Morugol arrow had pierced him. Kili groans involuntarily, going a bit white.

Thranduil’s face has become fierce, his eyes as cold as ice. “There is information I wish to know from you, dwarf, so perhaps we will discover that threshold together. After that…” He seizes Kili’s leg even harder, and this time Kili cries out.

“We’ll see how much Thorin will be willing to pay me for your life.”

Thranduil learns nothing from Kili that night, but is satisfied that he will be successful at obtaining the white star jewels he desires using Kili as ransom once they arrive at the Mountain the following evening.

He cannot know Kili’s true agony, that if Thranduil could treat him this brutally with his own people looking on, how had they treated Tauriel, and where was she now?

When he is finally shoved into a corner of a tent and allowed to rest, Kili lies awake, exhausted and aching but desperate to overhear some word of Tauriel’s fate. He finally is rewarded as he hears a group of elves discussing it, and learns to his great grief that they had left her imprisoned in their dungeons, and that Thranduil intended to keep her there indefinitely.

He drops into a fitful, nightmarish sleep, thinking of Tauriel, who loved the light of the stars and the free air of the forest, facing life in a cage underground.


	17. Thranduil ransoms Kili at the gates of Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili is brought, beaten and battered, back to the last place in Middle earth he wishes to be.  
> But this will be Fili's time to shine.

Much is happening now, and all is converging along the roots and valleys of the Lonely Mountain.

Gandalf and Galadriel have traveled North to join Celeborn, along with several other interested representatives of Middle Earth. This party then recruits more armed men of Laketown, now that the women and children there have been sufficiently sheltered and cared for. This now great army both in number and wisdom travel towards the Lonely Mountain just as Thranduil’s party reaches it.

Dain and the Dwarves from the Iron Hills have reached the Mountain, too, from the North, and are met by a very odd delegation consisting of Fili, Bard and Bilbo. Dain listens as they tell of all that has occurred; of the enormous treasure that they hope will be shared by all, of Thorin’s apparent madness and the barricaded gate, and of the curse of Smaug upon the hoarded gold. Dain agrees to encamp for now in the Northern foothills of the Lonely Mountain.

Meanwhile, ravens have been coming to bring messages to Fili more often than to Thorin. Thorin, still obsessed with finding the Arkenstone, has not noticed Fili’s absences from Erebor, and does not suspect or see how busy Fili has been. The ravens tell Fili that Kili has been captured by Thranduil. Almost at the same time, a small group of riders arrives at Bard’s encampment.

A plan is hatched, and Bilbo is assigned one last important burglary task.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Thranduil arrives at Thorin’s front gate with much fanfare and regalia. The Elven King is mounted on his megaloceras, its antlers as wide as two men are long. His 500 elves ride white horses and wear silver armor that glitters in the sun.

Thorin is atop his great gate, his dwarves armed with bows aimed at Thranduil and his host. He is grim, his eyes and face shine with a crazed light. His hair and beard have grown unkempt and his chain mail is half unfastened.

“You know well how unwelcome you are here, elf. Take your lying, dishonorable hoard and return to your own realm!”

Thranduil dismounts and comes forward, speaking loudly.

“I have brought something with me that I thought you might value enough to trade for the white jewels I’ve told you I want.”

“We do not barter with thieves! Begone!”

It is then that that several of the other elves dismount, one of them carrying a burlap sac over his shoulder. He sets it on the ground and draws it upwards, revealing Kili, still bound hand and foot, blinking and reeling from having been in darkness and slung over a horses’ back for so long. But battered and bruised as he is, nothing can hurt Kili more than looking up at the other dwarves and knowing he is no longer welcome among them. In this instant they all know his humiliation; that he went looking for Tauriel amongst her people and was soundly beaten for it, as he should have known he would be. In a dwarf’s view: Elves were never to be trusted. _“What did you expect?”_ He can hear Thorin’s voice in his head from a time when he was still his uncle, when he was still the dwarf he most respected in the world and would have done anything to please and emulate. “ _You know nothing of the world_.”

He feels one of the elves grasp the back of his hair and pull his head back, and feels a cold blade at his throat. It is almost a relief. He closes his eyes. Thorin will not barter with Thranduil. He knows how this must end.

“How much will you give me for your nephew’s life, Thorin, oh great King Under the Mountain?”

At the top of the gate, Thorin has not moved. Something flickers in his eyes. Every last dwarf behind Thorin is horror stricken. Bofur’s mouth is open and his face is ashen white. Ori has collapsed and is holding one hand over his mouth, trying not to be sick, and Balin is looking hard at Thorin, his eyes dangerously set.

Thorin does not know his people anymore. If he allows Kili to be killed, it will break the company.

Down where Kili kneels, he suddenly feels the ropes around his legs being cut. Then the coils around his wrists seem to be magically loosening, and he feels a small set of hands on his arm.

“Don’t despair;” comes Bilbo’s voice in his ear, “All will be well.”

Kili’s eyes fly open, “Bilbo!”

“Shh! Just wait,” comes the hobbit’s answer apparently out of thin air.

Just as Thorin opens his mouth to answer Thranduil, another voice yells “WAIT!”

Fili comes running onto the plain between Thranduil and Thorin, a parcel in his hand. He stops and looks up at Thorin,

“I am sorry Uncle,” He calls, “I won’t let you do this.”

Kili’s face is anguished; he had not wanted his brother harmed by his own choices.

But Bilbo whispers again, “Well you didn’t think we were just going to stand by and let them kill you, did you? Good heavens you dwarves are a pessimistic lot.”

“King Thranduil, are these the jewels you wanted?” Fili unwraps the parcel to reveal a necklace strung with white iridescent stones, not as large as the Arkenstone, but each containing inner light similar to it. Thranduil’s eyes gleam in their greed as he looks at them.

Up on the gate, Thorin is enraged, and cursing, he grabs a bow from the ground, knocks an arrow into it and aims for Fili’s back. An insane light fills his eyes, but the bowstring remains taut as Thorin’s arms hold it and something prevents him from releasing the arrow. Balin walks over to him, places his hands on the weapon, and forces it downward. Thorin sways on his feet and looks at Balin and the others as if awakening from a dream.

Fili speaks coldly and clearly to King Thranduil back down on the plain. “You are quite formidable, King Thranduil, and your armor and helm are beautifully wrought. Surely these gems will go well with your fine costume and the ice crystals you wear in your crown.”

He takes the necklace and throws it at Thranduil, who catches it against his chest, his eyes narrowing at Fili. Fili is simply dressed in his traveling cloak and boots. He wears no armor or mantle, and carries no weapons. Had Thorin let loose his arrow, Fili would have died. Yet as he continues to speak to Thranduil and his elves, the young dwarf Prince of Erebor speaks with such self-assurance, eloquence and grace that he commands the full attention of elf and dwarf alike.

A small smile spreads across Kili’s face, and high above, Thorin has sunk to his knees and listens, fascinated.

“I have heard of the greatness of the elf race,” Fili continues, “of your longevity, your great deeds throughout history, and your great wisdom. You have lived a long time, King Thranduil. Your Woodland Realm is very grand. You should have learned much and should be very wise by now, surely much wiser than a young dwarf like myself.”

Now Fili walks over to where Kili is still being held by two of Thranduil’s guardsmen, a sword still at his throat, bruises and traces of blood still on his face. Fili barely comes up to their breast plates, but his voice commands them as though he were their captain,

“Take your hands off my brother.”

They release Kili, and Fili kneels worriedly before him. But Kili smiles, “Don’t stop now! Drive your dagger home!”

Bilbo’s voice concurs nearby, “Hear, hear! Please continue, this is most entertaining!”

Fili stands back up, facing the elves again.

“You are a fair and peaceful race by reputation.” He says, “But I have been a guest of the Goblin race recently. And I must tell you that you seem to behave much more like them than like the elves I have heard about in stories.”

Thranduil looks dangerously down at Fili, but there are some elves among his ranks who murmur at Fili’s words, and even some who have the good grace to look downcast. Fili has knelt down again to help Kili to his feet, but Kili’s arms and legs have been bound for over 24 hours and he cannot walk yet. Fili hoists him onto his shoulders, and then looks back at Thranduil, carrying Kili as though he were as light as a straw bundle.

“I have a message for you, by the way, from Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel.” Thranduil’s eyes widen at this. “They command that you take your gang of bullies back to your realm and stay there until you have learned to play nicely with other races. Oh, and Tauriel sends a message to all of you,”

Fili turns to the mounted elves, some of whom had brutalized Kili the night before,

“She simply wanted me to tell you that the best man has won.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

They are a very merry party who return to the woods, to the new small encampment where Celeborn, Galadriel, Gandalf, Legolas and Tauriel wait for them. Kili has found his legs by now and rushes to Tauriel, and they fall to their knees and embrace each other, overjoyed to see each other again, and in the company of the few in Middle Earth who do not object to their match.

In the midst of everything, in this blissful calm before the storm, Gandalf calls over to Kili.

“So what reason did Thorin give for banishing you?”

Kili, who is rather distracted, manages to get out, “Fraternizing with the enemy.”

 ------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorin watches from his gate as Fili carries Kili away into the woods, his nephew’s joyful laughter echoing across the river valley before the mighty gates of Erebor.

Thranduil and his elves slowly take their leave, the wind having left their sails, there seeming to be no other reason for them to remain. The elves disappear back down the valley towards Long Lake.

Then slowly the dwarves turn to look at Thorin.

He is still gazing at the place in the woods where Fili and Kili disappeared. There is a look of puzzlement, of wonder. A light snow has begun to fall, and Thorin’s breathing changes with the cold, crisp air. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He turns to look into the halls of Erebor, seeing there the glint of the golden treasure that obscenely fills his halls. Fear seems to cross his features, and he finally looks down at his hands that still hold the bow and arrow he had aimed at Fili. He drops them as though they were red hot. There is a brief flashback to King Thror standing amidst his piles of gold, feverish and poisoned by it.

Thorin finally looks over to his company. They are all watching him closely, and their expressions begin to brighten as they see their leader’s eyes return to their original clarity and brilliance. The poisonous thrall of the treasure is broken. Balin and Dwalin look at Thorin now, eyes hopeful.

“Well.” Says Thorin, standing to his full height, and taking a moment to arrange and complete the fastening of his armor. He faces them suddenly seeing them for the first time in weeks. “It would seem my nephews know more of the World than I thought.”

The dwarves are overcome with relief and love for their King, and all fall to their knees before him.

At this same moment one of the ravens alights on Thorin’s shoulder and speaks to him at length. The sky overhead suddenly grows dark and an ominous rumbling can be heard to the West.

Thorin’s eyes sparkle with new purpose. “We have work to do my lads.”


	18. Legolas confronts Thranduil for the last time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas has finally reached a point of no return. He cannot reconcile what he has learned of the world with his father's narrow view of it. He parts ways with his own Realm forever.

All see the darkness falling and the footfalls of the orc-goblin armies thunder ever closer as the peoples of Middle Earth prepare for the oncoming battle.

Legolas and Tauriel don their battle gear and travel to intercept Thranduil’s forces, in the hopes of attempting once more to pierce his selfish heart and bring him yet into the fight. After seeing the great changes in Legolas, Tauriel wonders if it may be possible for Thranduil’s heart to soften. But she also carries great anger towards those who mistreated Kili, and feels conflicted towards her kin as they approach them. She admits to herself she would like a few moments alone with those who dared hold a sword to Kili’s throat. She fights to keep these feelings under control as she halts her squadrons at a respectable distance from Thranduil and his elves, allowing Legolas to go forward to his father alone.

Those elves still loyal to Thranduil gaze at her in awe, for she and her guard make a splendid sight.

Legolas comes forward to speak to Thranduil, neither of them dismounting, the imposing megaloceras placing the elven King much higher than the young prince. But this has much less of an effect on Legolas than it used to, as his father suddenly seems much smaller to him now. They both nod to each other in greeting. The white star jewels lie across Thranduil’s breast plate.

“So you finally have obtained the jewels you had sought for so long.”

Thranduil nods, “I have what I came for, yes.”

“And you are just going to return to the realm, then?”

“There is nothing more to be gained by remaining here.” He looks contemptuously at Tauriel and her followers, “I am glad to see you are here, my son, but I am not certain you have chosen appropriate company of late.”

Legolas shakes his head, frustrated, disappointed. “Open your eyes, father. You have been too long underground, too long concerned with your own material needs and ignoring the real needs of others, even of your own people. Do you not see the darkness spreading across the sky? It does not only threaten men and dwarves, it covers our realm as well.”

The black sky does indeed extend across the entire visible skyline, and as they look it creeps towards them, blotting out the sun.

“You are expecting me to join in this great fight against orcs and goblins, to what end? We have all we desire in our realm and with our doors magically sealed none can trouble us. Let the sky darken, let the dwarves and men, these weaker short-lived races, fend for themselves.”

Legolas is disgusted. “How can you speak thus, father? How can you be so blind, so cowardly?”

He closes his eyes, understanding that Thranduil is too corrupt to change. He turns to the elves behind his father and begins to speak to them. Thranduil regards his son as though looking at some strange new creature he has never seen before.

“You have a choice!” Legolas shouts, “You can return to the realm with your King and stay safe behind sealed doors, or you can join us and finally take your place amongst the people of Middle Earth! Fight our common enemy with courage, and not just bring honor to yourself but gain the esteem of new friends that I promise you, you will find in all corners of this land.”

Thranduil’s face has turned ugly, and he shouts to his elves, “If you do this, you go against your King! Do not ever hope to be allowed back into my Woodland Realm if you join in this worthless fight! Be forever banished! “

he looks at Legolas, including him in this pronouncement as well.

Legolas is unmoved, and speaks quietly to his father.

“I am sorry it had to come to this. I am no longer satisfied to live my life underground and away from the World. I choose a life of service from now on, and no longer one of self-service.”

To the other elves, he continues, “Banished from the Woodland Realm, perhaps. But if you honor and respect the names of Lord Celeborn, Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, know that they are in this fight with their people, and that I am here upon their request to ask for your help. You will not be left homeless once this battle is over, and your names will be honored amongst our kind.”

At this, the elves murmur to each other. One young elf-knight, a maiden, breaks ranks and comes forward, bowing to Legolas and Tauriel.

“My sword is yours if you will have me.” She says.

Two more elf-males follow her, then a few more, and in the space of a few minutes, about half of Thranduil’s command has defected to Tauriel’s lines.

Thranduil glowers at Legolas. “Nevermore return. You are no longer my son!”

Legolas looks sadly at his father, and then nods as their party turns to leave. “I hope you and your jewels will be very happy together. Farewell.”


	19. Thorin needs no jewel to be King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili and Fili find their Uncle again in Bard's encampment as all prepare for the final battle.  
> Thorin's mind is clear again, and he has some amends to make.

Thorin’s first order is to de-barricade the great gate of Erebor. The dwarves apply themselves happily to the work, removing the great stones and ropes and restoring the gate to its original unhindered grandeur. Then Thorin directs them to fill several mining carts with human and dwarf sized armor and weapons, and one filled with gold for Bard and his lake men.

Dwalin, Gloin and Bifur take on the task of delivering the carts of dwarf armor and weapons to Dain’s encampment to the North. The dwarves are merry again and throw themselves into this heavy work, their hearts unified once more, their worry over Thorin’s sanity is gone. Thorin himself, un-nerved by how close his mind came to being overthrown, directs all activity from outside the gate, setting up a campsite for himself with Bombur. He will not go near the treasure again until it is much diminished and put to better uses.

Well-armed for war now, the dwarves take the remaining carts to Bard’s encampment, which they find has now swelled into an enormous gathering ground for men and elves. The sentries are wary at first, but seeing the carts filled with treasure they quickly bring Thorin’s group into camp, where Gandalf himself is first to greet him. 

"Is this the great King Under the Mountain?”

“It is, though it almost was not.”

Gandalf smiles and nods, his long handled pipe protrudes from his mouth.

“I am glad to see you alive and well, my friend.” Then Gandalf steps wisely aside, as he sees Kili and Fili approaching.

Dwarves are not adept at apologies, and neither are they very comfortable receiving them. The three kinsmen approach each other nervously, and silence falls around them as men, dwarves, elves (and hobbit) find themselves compelled to look and listen.

Kili and Fili are both able to see that the grace and strength they remember of their Uncle has returned to him, and their relief at this shines out of both of them. Thorin senses this and takes heart, reaching for Fili first. They take each other’s shoulders, dwarf fashion as Thorin speaks,

“You’ve been busy.”

Fili smiles and nods.

“That was quite a performance for King Thranduil. Worthy of dwarf lore, I think. You will be telling that story to your grandchildren one day.” Fili lets out a laugh. “I shall keep a closer eye on you from now on. You’ve made me proud. Will you fight by my side?”

Fili chokes out, “To the death, Uncle!” before Thorin gathers him into a fierce hug, saying he hopes it will not come to that, and then orders Fili to go help the others.

Then Thorin turns to Kili, taking his shoulders as he did Fili’s and contemplating him at arm’s length for a long moment. Thorin loves both of his nephews, but Kili was always his favorite, and as he looks at him now for the first time in many days with a clear eye, Thorin sees a new depth and maturity in Kili’s countenance that touches his heart and reminds him of his sister.

“You have come of age on this journey, though by harsher paths than I would have wished for you.”

“I have come through all right.”

“Indeed.”

A moment passes in which all is said with their eyes, no longer locked in a duel of wills but instead exchanging clear messages of fealty, loyalty and what amounts to father-son love.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

Kili’s face crumples and he simply answers, “Uncle it is forgotten!” before Thorin gathers him, too, into a fierce embrace that would have crushed a human.

Tauriel is watching and listening, but standing a respectable distance away with Legolas and the other elves. She has no intention of intruding on this reconciliation, but her eyes meet Kili’s for a moment and they exchange a warm look.

Thorin marks this, and looks over at the elves. He slowly makes his way over to them. His expression is guarded, but he has questions, and feels drawn to approach Tauriel even though he will probably never ask her what is in his mind.

As Tauriel realizes he is coming to speak to her, she kneels and bows low before him. Legolas regards Thorin evenly, beginning to bristle; Celeborn behind him lays a calming hand on his shoulder.

Kili moves to stand behind Thorin, not wanting to interfere, but needing to be there.

Tauriel speaks, “I have long wished to apologize for my people’s treatment of your company while you were in the Woodland realm, my Lord Thorin.”

Thorin takes her hand and raises her, bowing subtly in return. “I am told that I am indebted to you for my nephew’s life, so it seems we are even.”

Thorin looks at the elves before him, at Legolas in particular. “I have also heard that you and many of your Woodland kin have parted ways with your King and Realm. “ Legolas and Tauriel nod in affirmative, their faces serious with the remembered pain of their choice. “It is a hard thing to have to leave one’s home. But I think perhaps you have made the right choice. And I respect you for it.”

Dwarves and elves bow again to each other, and turn to join their kin in preparation for the coming battle.

Tauriel and Kili will reflect later that evening that the exchange was a good start, possibly more than they could have hoped for.

Bilbo has been watching and listening, too. Gandalf comes up to him.

“I think you need not worry about the correctness of your decision, Master Hobbit.” He says. “It is very clear to me that Thorin needs no jewel to be a King.”


	20. The Battle of the 5 armies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some live, some die.

Azog leads 30,000 orcs against the defenders of the Lonely Mountain. His son Bolg leads 20,000 goblins, who have traveled successfully under the scorched sky. Even with Sauron and the nine riders driven away, the black hoard that marches towards the people of Middle Earth is still deadly. Azog still thirsts for dwarf blood and seeks Thorin’s head as relentlessly as ever. The elves, men and dwarves who have gathered their armies around the Lonely Mountain are outnumbered 4 to 1.

Bard of the Lakemen, Dain and Thorin of the line of Durin, Celeborn, Galadriel and Elrond of the Elven Realms have prepared as well as they can as the dark army finally appears on the ridge of the valley at the base of Erebor. Bilbo in his mithril coat and leather helm clutches Sting in his right hand, and the ring in his left. The Tookish part of him has gone into high gear, and he has positioned himself with the dwarves of Thorin’s company on the Northern right flank of the Army of Middle Earth. Gandalf did not approve of this, but could not stop the hobbit from wishing to stand with the dwarves. After all that he had been through with them he could not possibly wait safely in the foothills as the dwarves, who had become like brothers to him, faced such danger without him.

The other dwarves had rallied around him also, their confidence in his ability to handle himself in a fight has grown tenfold since they met Bilbo in the Shire so long ago. Thorin himself had said, “No grocer is this. He’s faced trolls, goblins, giant spiders, outwitted Woodland Elves and survived an extended interview with a Dragon. I will draw my sword beside Bilbo any day.” Bilbo was so moved he’d nearly embarrassed himself with emotion. Nothing would budge him from their ranks now, as the orcs and goblins appear on the hill above them.

For the thousandth time Bilbo fingers the Ring, wondering again whether or not he should use it. Would it help his new brothers if he did? They all know now that Bilbo has a ring that can make him invisible, and many had suggested he use it if it became beneficial to their cause, or if it served to help protect their hobbit for whom they all had developed great fondness.

Only Gandalf seems ambivalent. He did not have enough time to question Bilbo thoroughly about this ring that he found in the Goblin tunnels, and finally tells Bilbo he must follow his own heart in this matter.

At this moment, looking to his right and to his left at the dwarves of Erebor, Bilbo can feel that the very best qualities of his companions, and indeed of the entire host around him, has been brought to bear in the imminence of this battle. They are splendid in their courage, strength and love for each other. He looks at the ring in his hand, and has never been more certain that it embodies the opposite of all of these qualities.

Abruptly Bilbo shoves the ring into a deep pocket, and clutches Sting with both hands, looking with intensity of purpose at the orcs and goblins standing on the hills above them.

The charge of this dark army down into the valley is met first by the Elven battle horns that blow a call to unite all true hearted races. The Middle Earth Army employs their archers first, sending thousands of arrows into the air against the attacking forces of Bolg and Azog. Hundreds of the black hoard fall from arrows, but thousands more come behind them. The human and elf cavalries charge next, and collide with the orc infantry in an explosion of armor, swords and guttural screams. Azog has surrounded himself with a personal guard of giant mountain trolls, each wielding enormous curved swords. He has identified Thorin and his kin on the right flank of the Middle Earth Lines, and now brings the bulk of his columns in that direction as the battle enters into its fullest conflict.

Legolas and Tauriel fight side by side in the center of the lines, their skill and ferocity inspiring the Elves they lead. Their fighting is successful, but the orcs and goblins are not hitting the center as hard as they are hitting the right flank. In a relative lull in the fighting, Tauriel and Legolas gain a small bit of higher ground, and see that Azog and his deadly troll guard are headed straight for the dwarf lines. Thorin leads these forces flanked closely by Fili and Kili. They are close to becoming completely surrounded, although they are fighting most valiantly. Ahead of them, they see that Bolg is nearing their lines, and has spotted Legolas, whose face sets with grim determination as he speaks to Tauriel.

“Take your column and go bring reinforcement to Thorin. I will finish here (he sneers in Bolg’s direction) and Join you as soon as I can.”

She looks gratefully at him, and shouts to her squadrons “Khila amin!! Mallen pelu e’n’alaquel en’ sen!”

The Woodland elves rally to their captain as she runs towards the fiercest fighting going on around Thorin and the dwarves of Erebor.

Bilbo’s original charge of adrenalin is beginning to give out and he is becoming more and more fearful that he will never see his hobbit hole again. He is acquitting himself well alongside Balin and Bofur, and he is certain that his mithril coat and small size have already saved him several times. But there are so many foes, and all so much larger than he, and as he sees the giant trolls approaching his courageous hobbit heart comes close to faltering. Balin grips his arm suddenly.

“Bilbo put your ring on now! You may be of better use to us and to yourself if you can’t be seen!”

Bilbo shakes his head, anguished, not willing to do as Balin suggests. But Balin is adamant, and reassures the hobbit,

“Those trolls may have sensitive toes! Go and find out! No one here will ever see you as a coward, Master Baggins!”

“I won’t leave you!” cries Bilbo, but he puts the ring on, and now unseen has a unique view of what occurs next.

He is awed by the magnificence of the dwarves, and as his head is no longer a visible target, he is able to look around without constantly having to duck orc axes and swords aimed at him. But he grows more afraid for his friends as he sees the trolls crushing their way towards where Thorin and his kinsmen are fighting.

Their battling will become the stuff of legend. Their foes fall like water as they come against Thorin and his people, every sword and axe blow falling true to reach its mark, every enemy arrow or weapon stopped by the shield or sword of a kinsman. But Bilbo can see they are becoming winded. Kili’s arrows never miss their mark as he fires at the orcs who attack him, but his quiver is running low. And as the trolls approach, Bilbo watches Kili fire at them to no avail; their hides are too tough to be pierced.

Tauriel and her elves arrive and this rallies the dwarves. She leaps into the fight next to Kili, stopping an orc axe from cleaving into Thorin and then relieving Kili of two of the four goblins he had been sword fighting single-handedly. They give each other the briefest looks of adoration before engaging in the fight together with renewed determination. But they are completely surrounded now, with no help of reinforcement from the other lines of Middle Earth who are equally exhausted. The trolls close in around Thorin’s family, and Azog orders them to wipe them out as he sits back to watch.

It begins to look grim. The dwarves are strong, but the trolls wield their swords with enormous force through their lines, mortally wounding several in Dain’s forces before hacking into Thorin’s kin. Fili barely holds off the blade of one with his shield, and Thorin is dismayed as he attempts to wound one with his axe and the axe blade is knocked out of its shaft.

Tauriel leaps up, more nimble than the others, and lands on the back of one. She aims at the back of its neck with a point blank arrow. The beast falters and falls to the ground where the others step in to cleave at its great head. Bilbo hacks at the feet and ankles of another troll, distracting it enough to prevent it from beheading Thorin. Tauriel leaps up again onto the back of another troll…

…and is shot through the back by an arrow from Azog, who targeted her as soon as he saw her foiling his plans.

She does not fall right away, but knocks one more arrow and manages to bring down the troll before sliding sideways and downward, landing in Kili’s arms, who has been screaming her name. He cradles her, moving her body against the fallen troll to shield her from the ongoing battle. She is not dead but is mortally wounded. Kili must resume fighting as the orcs keep coming at them. He stands over her, the ferocity of his sword and countenance increased tenfold as he cuts down foe after foe that dare come near where Tauriel lies.

Tauriel’s elves rally to her as well. They fall in around Kili and for a time it seems as if the tide will turn. Thorin has seen Azog’s work, and goes to meet the white orc, Orchist gleaming in his hadn, his eyes deadly with determination.

It is then that Kili sees the single remaining troll begin to advance on Fili. He screams in warning to his brother, but Fili’s eyes are on Thorin who is advancing on Azog, and there is so much noise that he does not hear Kili. Leaving Tauriel to the protection of her elves, Kili runs towards his brother as the troll raises his great curved blade. Just as he brings it down on top of Fili, Kili leaps into his brother to shield him, receiving the full force of the blow down the full length of his back as he knocks Fili to the ground.

Bilbo sees this and screams, attacking the troll and the goblins still threatening the two brothers. Other dwarves arrive and the fighting becomes even more fierce. Bilbo is clubbed in the helmet and falls to the ground, senseless.

Then, off in the distance, there is a high pitched call from the great Eagles. They are coming as the battle still rages. Thorin meets Azog in battle, and there are tremendous blows exchanged. Thorin is not the heart broken young prince he was in their last encounter on the fields outside Moria. Azog senses this and feels fear. They fight, and Thorin waits for the opening he needs, and beheads the orc. But at this same moment, Azog’s hooked arm drives into Thorin’s side. Thorin falls, mortally wounded.

The Eagles turn the tide of the battle now, clawing and killing thousands of enemies and putting the survivors into retreat. Legolas receives help from Beorn the skin changer, who has taken bear form during this battle and has been glad to contribute his help in killing as many orcs as he can. Together they kill Bolg and most of his goblins.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel wait in a clearing, as the Eagles begin to bring the wounded from the field. Thorin is brought first and laid on a bed of furs on the ground. Kili is brought next. Fili would not let go of his brother, so the Eagle carried them both together and lays them gently near Thorin. Fili weeps openly over Kili, who is pale and bleeding out, but has enough strength to grasp Fili’s hand and speak,

“You’ll be a great King.”

“I needed you by my side!”

“No you don’t. Not anymore. Promise me you’ll give most of that treasure away.”

“I will.”

“And tell mother I’m sorry.”

All of the dwarves have gathered now, and Bilbo as well. Gandalf located him with Balin’s help, and brought him on an Eagle. He stands there now with all of them, as these most beloved members of the Company of Thorin pass away before their eyes.

Kili is calling for Tauriel. It is Legolas who brings her, carrying her carefully, hundreds of her elf guard gathered behind him. He lays her gently down next to Kili so they can face each other in their last moments. The clouded, scorched sky over them has cleared now, and the stars have come out on this moonless night.

Kili pushes a strand of hair from her eyes. “Look, Tauriel. The World falls away, and the stars await us.”

She smiles, touches his face, and she is gone. He presses her to him, whispering, “I will follow you anywhere, my Lady.” And he is gone, too, in the next moment.

Several of the younger dwarves fall to their knees, including Bilbo, who is weeping so heavily he can hardly see anymore.

Galadriel comes to stand over the fallen pair, kneeling down near their heads. Fili looks up miserably at her. She places her hands gently on Tauriel and Kili’s heads, closing her eyes. She opens them, smiling serenely, looking at Fili and Bilbo.

“They are together.”

They turn to Thorin now, who is fading fast, and calling for Fili and Bilbo. They hasten to him. Balin is with him, his gnarled old hands holding Thorin’s head as tenderly as he would a bird’s egg, his face a mask of grief.

Thorin takes Fili’s hand in his, holding it firmly. “You have served me and this company well and truly. You have won their hearts. You are ready to lead.”

“I did not want to come by this so soon, Uncle, and not this way!”

“We cannot always choose how our stories will end. Your story is just beginning. Make it a good one.”

He turns to Bilbo then, “And you’d do well to follow the wisdom of our true hearted Hobbit. “ Bilbo, who wanted to give Thorin a proper verbal Goodbye, chokes up again and cannot say a word. “More of us should value good food and cheer, Master Baggins. Perhaps it would then be a more peaceful World.”

And Thorin is gone, too.

 


	21. Aftermath of Battle, and Goodbyes

Legolas stands on a nearby hill, looking up at the stars. He has lived for centuries, but he cannot recall ever feeling so old.

Gandalf approaches him then. He has a hooded companion with him.

“I have heard that you are interested in a life a service, my lord Legolas.”

Legolas turns to face them. The hooded figure removes his hood. It is Aragorn. They greet each other with respect, never having met, but having heard of each other.

“Yes, my lord Gandalf. I am at your service.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bilbo is packing to leave. He takes the mithril coat, and Sting, and the portrait Bane drew of him. After contemplating the ring for a long moment, he puts it into the pocket of his waistcoat. It did help him during the battle, after all.

But he packs none of the treasure, though Fili has offered him as much as his ponies can carry. He wants none of the gold of Erebor and the heartbreak that it caused. His pony, modestly packed, awaits him.

Gandalf, Elrond and Beorn are traveling with him. The dwarves are all there to see him off. It is days since the Battle, but they are all still shaken, their faces lined and their eyes hollow from the grief of burying too many of their kin. But seeing Bilbo cheers them. They will miss him.

Bilbo’s heart is heavy; he wonders if it will ever feel light again. He smiles at them, though, and tells them they are always welcome to visit him at Bag-End if they are ever there, and to feel free to bend all the forks and chip all the plates they like. They smile at the hobbit and wish him well. Fili, now in more regal attire, embraces Bilbo with sincerity.

And the hobbit leaves the company of Thorin and the Lonely Mountain for greener, softer paths.


End file.
